One Last Time
by whyyouacknsocraycray
Summary: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 6! The last thing Arthur expected was to open his eyes in Colter. By some miracle, he was back where it all started, with a second chance to save his family. But even with the knowledge of what is to come, it may not be enough to steer Dutch away from their inevitable end. Time Travel fic. Also posted to AO3.
1. Chapter 1: That's The Way It Is

As soon as I finished the main story of Red Dead Redemption 2, I immediately went looking for all the time travel fix-it fics. Didn't find nearly as many as I expected, so I decided to add my own. I was pretty inspired by Out of the Dark by sky_daybreak on AO3, which I highly recommend reading. Hopefully I've put enough of my own spin on the idea to make mine worth reading as well.

Also, I'm very bad at naming things, hence me going to the Hamilton soundtrack for ideas.

Obviously, spoilers for the ending of Chapter 6.

* * *

**Chapter 1: That's The Way It Is**

When he left Abigail and Sadie, Arthur knew he was going to die.

It would be a gunshot wound, probably from Micah. Or even Dutch, the way he had been acting. The Pinkertons could finally catch up to the gang and hang them all, no matter how many he killed there just seemed to be more. And even if he managed to escape all of that, the disease he had caught from Thomas Downes would destroy his body from the inside, slowly stealing his air until finally, he stopped breathing altogether.

If he was being honest with himself, he deserved it.

He deserved the burning in his lungs for beating Thomas Downes to death. He deserved it for ruining Edith Downes' life, for forcing Archie into the mines. Whatever help he gave them in the end was nothing compared to the suffering he had caused.

But what happened at the end of his ride, well, he hadn't wanted to die because of Micah. And his family didn't deserve any of it.

First, Miss Grimshaw. Arthur should have never taken his eyes off Micah, even for that one second. But Javier had run over, yelling about Pinkertons, and Miss Grimshaw had been shot. Then, Javier and Bill had chosen Dutch, leaving Marston and himself alone. His loyal horse, who had collapsed from a bullet right under him.

I wonder if Javier and Bill made it, he thought, body failing as he gasped for air on the side of the mountain. He had stopped feeling pain, not exactly a good sign. But his heart ached, thinking about what happened at the end.

"I gave you all I had… I did."

And yet Dutch walked away. Away from him, away from Micah, away from all of it. He wondered if Dutch would make it.

But in the end, Dutch surviving didn't matter do Arthur. In the last few weeks of his life, he had focused on John. All he wanted was for John, Abigail, and Jack to survive. In the end, the only thing he could give was a chance. A chance for John to escape, to make it to Copperhead Landing to be with Abigail again. Sadie could protect them until John's shoulder healed. John surviving the train had been a miracle all on its own. Hopefully, there was room for another.

The sun was slowly rising. His last sunrise. It would make Arthur laugh, if he could bring enough air into his lungs for it. It was ironic. He had been beaten to death, just like Mr. Downes.

Arthur wished he could save them. Sean, who had always called him 'English' and wanted to be the better gunslinger than any of them. Lenny, died too suddenly and too young. Kieran, an unlikely friend. What happened to Kieran had haunted his dreams. Karen, who disappeared one day, and Molly. And of course Hosea, the man he loved like a father. None of them deserved what happened, either.

His sight was growing dim, but he could have sworn he saw a stag to his right. He turned his head away from the sun, taking in the sight of the stag standing over him. It looked straight through him, like it was looking into his soul.

I wish I could have saved them, he though. I wish I had seen what was happening and stopped it.

The sight of the stag was his last, as his eyes drifted shut for the final time.

Or, at least that's what he thought.

His eyes fluttered open again, and the stag remained in front of him. But the background had changed. Instead of the cliff that he knew would be his grave, the stag was surrounded in a field of white. Cold wind whipped past his face, snowflakes striking his cheeks like tiny daggers. His positing had changed. No longer was he leaning against rocks that dug into his back, the minor discomfort nothing in comparison to what Micah had done. In fact, he was sitting upright, drowning in a large wool coat. His hands held the reins of a horse, a dark bay stallion with splashes of white that hadn't been his in a long time. As he breathed in, the cold air stung, but didn't leave him gasping as his illness had done.

Where am I? he wondered, his vision growing blurry at the edges, with only the stag in focus. As he watched, the stag met his eye for a brief moment, before turning and running into the trees that he hadn't noticed until now.

"Arthur?" a voice behind him asked.

He thought he knew that voice. That voice had been a comfort to him in his last months. But Charles hadn't been on the mountain with him!

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

It was his last thought as his vision went black and his body slipped from the saddle.


	2. Chapter 2: Colter, Again

Here's chapter 2! Hoping to do daily updates (unless work gets in the way) since the story is mostly written, it just needs edits.

Alternative chapter title: How to Scare Your Parent Figures

* * *

**Chapter 2: Colter, Again**

Hosea Matthews was officially too old for the cold.

The escape after Blackwater had been bad for all of them, and this mining town that Arthur had found may have once offered decent shelter. But time had cracked the walls and foundations. Wind slipped between the boards, settling deep within Hosea's bones.

One of his son's was injured. John had come back half frozen with long scratches across his face. His first son, Arthur, was out hunting with Charles. The camp was running out of food, and their need was growing desperate.

The wind whipped past the walls, and with it, a voice. At first, it was so quiet he ignored it, but then the noise grew louder and louder.

"Mr. Van der Linde! Mr. Matthews!"

The desperate voice brought Hosea to his feet and out the door. Through the swirling snow, two horses appeared. One he recognized as Arthur's new horse, with two dead deer on its back. The other was Taima, Charles' horse, and on it the source of all the shouting. Another figure sat in front of Charles, slumped against the arm Charles had wrapped around his chest.

Arthur, Hosea realized.

"Arthur!" he shouted, drawing the attention of a few others around the camp. He ran to meet them as Charles pulled Taima to a stop, dreading what he would find. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Charles said. "He was fine while we were hunting. He shot those deer. Then he collapsed while we were riding back."

"Arthur, can you hear me?" Hosea asked as Charles dismounted and Javier ran up to help. They carefully slid Arthur out of the saddle and into their arms. Hosea directed them to the main cabin, just as the door was flung open by a worried Dutch.

"What happened!" he demanded, before he processed the sight before him. "Arthur?"

"Let's get him inside, quickly!" Hosea said as Dutch yelled for Miss Grimshaw and Reverend Swanson. They carried Arthur into the cabin and laid him out on the bed. Hosea immediately began checking Arthur's pulse and breathing, the former which was a little fast but would not have normally been alarming if it weren't for Arthur's unexplained unconsciousness, and the latter way too shallow for comfort.

Dutch hovered right at his shoulder. "What's wrong with him, Hosea?"

"I don't know." Hosea continued his inspection, which revealed nothing. He noticed Arthur's coat was caked in snow on one side as he began to peel it away. Checking Arthur for injuries and finding none just left him more worried than relieved. What was wrong with his boy?

"What's wrong?" Dutch asked again.

"He's not injured, I don't think. I don't know, Dutch."

Then, Miss Grimshaw was pushing him aside, and Hosea was forced to stand on the side with Dutch and only watch.

"He has to be OK, Hosea," Dutch shook beside him, and not from the cold. "He's going to be OK. It's Arthur."

First Blackwater, and the deaths that occurred because of that damned ferry. Then John, now Arthur. Hosea wasn't sure he could handle this.

Charles and Javier slipped away to take care of the horses and deliver the deer to Mr. Pearson. Soon after, Miss Grimshaw and Reverend Swanson finished their examination and declared that they weren't entirely sure of the cause of Arthur's collapse. He wasn't injured, but there could be a number of reasons. Exhaustion, lack of food, the cold. For now, the most important thing would be to keep him warm. Finally, Dutch left to reassure the others that everything would be fine, though for both him and Hosea, that wouldn't be true until Arthur woke up.

Hosea sat next to Arthur's bed and grasped Arthur's hand in one of his own, the other running through Arthur's dark blond hair.

"You have to wake up," he whispered, tucking the blankets around his son.

Over the next few hours, several members of the Van der Linde gang checked in, but Arthur had not stirred. Charles lingered a little longer than most, and Micah did not appear at all.

One moment, Arthur was breathing slowly on the bed, then his eyes opened with a slight gasp. He blinked at the ceiling, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Arthur, can you hear me?" Hosea said, sliding closer to the bed, curling his fingers around Arthur's slack hand. Arthur's hand squeezed back in a slow, but desperate grip. His breathing quickly changed from slow to rapid. His glassy eyes were locked on the ceiling.

"Arthur, can you look at me?"

But Arthur continued his blank stare. "Hosea?" he gasped.

"You're alright, Arthur. You are going to be OK," he said.

"… what are you doing here?" Arthur muttered, finally shifting his eyes to squint at Hosea.

"Taking care of you, of course. You can't scare us like that!" He tried to mask his worry with a light, scolding tone, but Arthur's confused stare made it rather difficult.

"I… I don't understand…"

"It's OK, son, I'm right here," he reassured, though he was beginning to panic himself. "Arthur? Try to stay awake!" he said, even as Arthur's eyes began to slip shut again.

Hosea was about to call for someone, but Arthur seemed to relax. He breathed deep and sighed, falling deep into actual sleep. For the first time in hours, Hosea felt himself relax a little, too.

Dutch returned to the cabin soon after, bringing Hosea some stew that Mr. Pearson had prepared. He sat with Hosea while he ate. Miss Grimshaw slipped in again, placing a hand over Arthur's forehead. She was satisfied with his temperature and offered to relieve Hosea from his vigil, but Hosea wasn't ready to go just yet.

Not yet.

* * *

He remembered the mountain, dying on the cliff side in the glow of sunrise. He barely remembered a stag, then a voice he hadn't heard since that disaster of a bank robbery in Saint Denis.

He thought he had imagined it, a last dying hope to see Hosea again, but then he woke up to the sound of wind, an inescapable cold pushing past the blankets covering his body, and a warm hand loosely holding his own.

"…where…" was all he managed to get out, but it was enough. The hand tightened around his own.

"Arthur? Can you hear me?"

He froze. It was Hosea's voice again. But it couldn't be!

He turned his head towards the voice, and saw Hosea sitting beside him, concerned eyes brightening upon seeing Arthur.

"Where am I?"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Hosea's smile disappeared immediately. "Colter, that mining town you found. In the Grizzlies, remember?"

Why was he in the mountains again?

Hosea was wearing the large coat that he had worn many months ago, his voice going hoarse from the cold. Why would Hosea look like that if they were dead? And why would they be in the Grizzlies of all places?

"Arthur?" another voice asked. A voice that brought all the feelings of anger and betrayal crashing back on Arthur. Dutch!

"Why… why are we here, what happened…" his voice slurred, sounded terrible to his own ear.

"Arthur, son, don't you remember?" Dutch asked frantically. "We had to escape Blackwater."

"Arthur, you were hunting with Charles, you fell off your horse."

Could he actually be back in Colter? It seemed unlikely. More likely, this was Hell. A Hell where he would have to relive everything that happened again.

What had happened after they arrived at Colter, anyway? He and Dutch had gone to Sadie's house, he went hunting with Charles. And John…

"John!" he said, sitting up too quickly and causing black spots to appear in his vision.

"John is fine, it's alright." Hosea was pushing him back on the bed. "You and Javier found him."

So he had gone looking for John before hunting with Charles. His memories of their first few days in the mountains had blurred together. But he didn't remember this. "What happened?" he asked.

He chose to focus on Hosea's concerned face, rather than Dutch who stood in the corner. He couldn't look at Dutch yet, not after Dutch walked away from him, their family, and everything else. Whether he was in the past or in Hell, he wasn't ready to face Dutch.

"You fell off your horse," Hosea said gently. "Do you feel alright?"

"I'm a little dizzy," he replied honestly, the spots still hanging in his vision despite laying back down.

"Arthur, when was the last time you ate?" Hosea asked.

"I… I'm not sure."

"OK, that might be the problem." Hosea turned to Dutch. "Grab him some of Pearson's stew, will you?"

"Yes, yes of course," Dutch said, still a little flustered from everything that had happened. He looked like he wanted to say something, but left for the door.

Hosea helped him sit up, an action that made Arthur feel weak and helpless. Mary-Beth entered with some stew, and Arthur noted with a bit of sadness that Dutch hadn't returned himself. Not surprise, but still sad. Had Dutch always been that distant?

After he finished the stew, he felt better. Hosea seemed more relaxed as well.

"Now, you try to rest some more. I want you in bed for at least a few hours before you try to get up." Arthur laid back into the pillows, closing his eyes. But he wasn't tired, not enough to block the questions spiraling in his mind. Could he possibly be back in the past? And if he was, and not in some afterlife torture, could he change what had happened? Fulfill his dying wish?

He heard Hosea get up from beside his bed and move to the next room. A quick scan of the now empty room later, and he was diving into his satchel. It was his old one, not the larger one that Mr. Pearson had made for him. But his journal was there, and Arthur needed to write and remember.

He flipped through his pages on Blackwater, finding the first few entries from Colter. But then he turned the page, and again, and again. He couldn't believe it!

Every page was still filled, and with it every interesting person he met, locations of game and plants, and most importantly, everything the gang had done until the horrible end.

He had it all.


	3. Chapter 3: The Cornwall Train

Alternate title, Can We Shoot Micah Yet?

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Cornwall Train**

_I have no idea how, but I think I am in the past. Micah was a rat, Agent Milton told me. After Sadie and I had to rescue Abigail because Micah convinced Dutch it wasn't worth going. And after he left John to die. At least they all survived._

_I was sure I had died, but I woke up in Colter. Not entirely convinced this is real, but maybe I can change things._

* * *

In the morning, the storm had finally stopped. Arthur was glad, not enjoying being suddenly plunged back into the Grizzlies and the snow. He felt much better after a night of rest, and thought he would be ready to rejoin the rest of the gang.

Then, he saw Micah.

"Heard you can't stay on a horse, cowpoke."

Arthur wondered what would happen if he just killed Micah right now. Would Dutch forgive him? Or had Micah already sunk his claws so deep that Dutch would never see him for what he actually was?

"Nothing to say?" Micah sneered. Arthur's right hand twitched back towards his holster, but ultimately he had to let Micah go. After all, Micah hadn't betrayed the gang yet, providing Agent Milton had been truthful in that they had only picked up Micah after they returned from Guarma.

Fortunately, Micah moved his torments on to the rest of the gang. "Well, when I fall, I don't want no fuss."

"When you die," Lenny said, "there'll be a party!"

The entire cabin laughed, but not Arthur. There will be a party indeed, he thought grimly. And then Micah started throwing punches, and Dutch burst through the door. Yelling about going after O'Driscolls.

"We shouldn't do this, Dutch," Arthur said, addressing the man for the first time since he woke up. He remembered exactly where this led. The O'Driscoll camp. The train robbery plans. And then, Leviticus Cornwall.

"Of course we should," Dutch said, barely sparing Arthur a glance.

"We aren't back on our feet yet," Arthur continued.

"Colm O'Driscoll is here for us."

"No, he's not." That gave Dutch a pause.

"Are you doubting me, Arthur?"

The first time he had been in Colter, he would have denied ever doubting Dutch. "I just think we shouldn't be riding off just yet, especially not for your revenge."

"This isn't about revenge. They were talking about trains, and detonators," Dutch said, pulling equipment off his saddle. "Colm has good information. If you're feeling too unwell to join us, by all means, stay behind."

Arthur sighed. Of course Dutch would react badly to his lack of total support. He thought about turning and walking away, but that could endanger the others. So he grabbed the offered rifle and lasso, and mounted his horse.

It ended exactly has he remembered. As they looked over the ledge with binoculars, Arthur caught a glimpse of Colm himself. He couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through his body. Even watching that bastard swing would not erase the memory of being kidnapped, shot, then hung upside down like an animal. If only he had his rolling block rifle, he would shoot the man right now and damn the consequences. Unfortunately, he had only bought the rifle to help with Marston's sheep scam that had worked out so well.

Colm O'Driscoll rode away, leaving Arthur, Dutch, Bill, and Micah to kill the his men. He thought about putting a bullet through Micah's skull during the action, but then it was over. They left with the train plans and the dynamite, Arthur staying silent while Micah talked to Dutch, agreeing with everything he said.

Across the stream ahead of them, was a horse. "Hey, you see that feller? Wasn't he at camp with Colm?" Dutch asked. Kieran.

"Leave him to me," Arthur said, already spurring his horse forward and curling his hand around the lasso. He didn't need to listen to Dutch's instructions to keep him alive.

As he chased down Kieran, listening to him shout about how he was the wrong guy, Arthur wondered if he should just let him go. But would Kieran really survive any longer if he did?

Soon enough, he was riding back with a hogtied Kieran on the back of his horse. Oh well, maybe he could convince Kieran to give up Colm a little faster this time around.

* * *

Dutch was soon preparing the gang for the Cornwall train robbery, and Arthur didn't know what to do. Fortunately, Hosea was already expressing the doubts that Arthur himself had ignored the first time. But not now. In the days following his awakening on the mountains, Arthur had come to the conclusion that this could truly be the past. Or a bad dream that was lasting way longer than it should. Either way, Arthur decided to treat his situation like it was real, and push for real change.

"Leviticus Cornwall's no joke, Dutch," Hosea said, even as Dutch insisted that robbing a train was their only choice.

"I agree with Hosea," Arthur said. "We gotta keep lying low until it's safe."

This only made Dutch turn on Arthur. "This is the second time you've doubted my decision making in the last few days."

"Dutch!"

"No, if you would rather lay low in the snow and mountains, be my guest. Or you can help us get some money so we can finally get back on our feet. Up to you!" Dutch said bitterly, before mounting his horse.

Arthur wondered what would happen if he just stayed behind, but he remembered the failed charges, jumping onto the train with Lenny and Javier, then Javier falling. He couldn't leave Lenny alone to stop this train, to catch another bullet.

Or to fall off the train, he thought. Even though he checked the dynamite extra careful this time, it didn't blow. Probably a bad detonator, but for now, he had to help pull Lenny up after they leaped onto the carriage.

Lenny did well, the two of them moving in sync to the front and stopping the train. As he and Lenny took out guard after guard exiting the cars. "You OK?" he called to Lenny, relived that the kid was still firing like a professional. He wouldn't let Lenny down this time.

Then Dutch, Micah, Bill, Charles and Javier caught up, taking out the last of the Cornwall guards. Charles and Arthur blew open the door, forcing the last three men out of the carriage.

This time, Arthur decided to search the train a little more carefully, already knowing where the bonds were kept. On a table, he found a letter to Cornwall from an oil company, asking for payment to begin surveying the Wapiti reservation. Arthur placed it in his satchel. Perhaps if he warned Rains Fall now, the Chief could begin to petition the government and find a peaceful solution. Or Arthur could visit the surveyors and… convince them… to write a different report about the region.

Bonds in hand, Arthur exited the train, only to be left to deal with the three remaining guards. Last time, he had let them live, and they probably ran straight to Cornwall. Maybe killing them would keep Cornwall from finding out who had robbed the train? But in the end, he couldn't do it, and ordered them up onto the train.

"We won't tell a soul, we swear!" the guard whimpered, backing away from his gun and back onto the train. That's when an idea formed.

"Oh no, tell them," Arthur said. "Tell them your lives were spared… by Colm O'Driscoll!"

The guards scrambled away, and Arthur ran down the tracks to set the train in motion again. He didn't know if the lie would work, but maybe he could set Cornwall's sights on their rival. It was worth a shot. Make it easier for his family, this time. He pulled the lever, whistled for his horse, and rode back to camp.


	4. Chapter 4: Horseshoe Overlook

**Chapter 4: Horseshoe Overlook**

_We robbed Cornwall, again. This time I spoke up against Dutch. He didn't seem to like it very much. Don't know if anything will come of it, but I tried to tell Cornwall's men that it was the O'Driscolls that robbed them. If it works, we might get a few more weeks of peace._

* * *

"You are a lot farther along in that journal than I thought. Didn't you just buy it?" Hosea asked, driving their wagon for the first stretch out of the snowy mountains. Both men couldn't wait to be out of the cold.

"Well, a lot has happened since I bought," Arthur gave as a response. "Blackwater, these mountains…" Horseshoe Overlook, the South.

"Good thing we will be near a town. You might need another one," Hosea smiled. Arthur slid his journal back into his satchel, taking note of how stiffly Hosea's hands held the reins.

"Want me to drive, old man?" Arthur said, and took the offered reins as they left the snow behind.

But he forgot about the damned wheel until they were already crossing the stream.

"Shit!" He quickly pulled the horses to a stop as the back left of the wagon dropped. Charles ran over to help Hosea lift the back as Arthur rolled the wheel over and bashed it back into place. When it was done and they were getting ready to leave, he had the feeling of being watched. He looked up and saw three riders. He briefly wondered if one of them was Eagle Flies or Rains Fall, but they were too far for him to be able to tell.

Arthur listened as Hosea explained the tribes problems in the Heartlands, before cutting in. "It's about to get worse. I found this letter in the Cornwall train." He passed it over for Hosea to read. "Looks like Cornwall is looking to take their reservation land as well. What's left of it."

"Not much we can do about it now, unfortunately," Hosea said, passing the letter back.

"Yeah, Cornwall is not an easy man to deal with."

"Didn't know you knew about him," Hosea said. Arthur just shrugged. "Was surprised to see you stand up to Dutch about him."

"I just think you were right. We should lie low, get ready to head west, not east."

"Well, it isn't like Dutch to lie low. I don't know, maybe it's me who changed…"

"Maybe a little, but Dutch has changed too," Arthur said. "That ferry job was a risk, a bigger one than we usually take. You and I had that real estate scam all ready to go, but Micah had him all excited."

Arthur quickly realized that he needed Hosea, if he was going to fix this. With Hosea's help, perhaps he could save Dutch as well as the others. But the past few weeks had done nothing to convince Arthur that he would be successful. He hadn't noticed the first time, but the hints of the madness that had overtaken Dutch, especially in Guarma and Beaver's Hollow, were already present.

The sun was bright in the sky as they reached the valley, and Arthur was soon shrugging off his coat. He remembered this beautiful country well, having hunted and fished up and down these parts. Soon, he was turning the horses up the familiar path to camp.

Dutch was giving a speech, and Hosea was not having it. Neither was Arthur, he couldn't believe how often Dutch seemed to spout as if he were a deity they all worshiped.

Dutch laid out the plan. Make money, head west, buy some land. It was a good plan, except it was Dutch. Arthur was sure the man would never settle down. Even when he had spoken of Tahiti, as their lives fell apart around them, it would never have been true. Dutch wasn't a rancher.

Still, it was good to be back in the Heartlands. And then, Herr Strauss wandered over.

Arthur couldn't relax just yet. He needed to plan.

He dismissed himself to help set up camp, and as soon as that was done, retreated to his tent. He pulled out his journal, paging through his first adventures in Valentine until he came across his writings about Thomas Downes. First priority was to not catch tuberculosis from the man. And make sure that family was alright. Downes probably wouldn't survive much longer, considering how sick he sounded, but Arthur certainly wasn't going to help him on that path. In fact, Arthur planned on not collecting any debt money, and hopefully he could slip enough of his own cash into the collection box to keep Strauss none the wiser until he found a way to stop the man's lending schemes.

Second, he needed to make some money. Fortunately, he wouldn't need to spend days following treasure maps and clues to find everything he was looking for. There were several gold bars hidden around this area, just waiting for him. He also decided to hold on to the majority of his own money, for now. Just until he decided what to do about Dutch.

And third, Micah. He had to keep Micah away from Dutch. If he had to kill him, well, that's what he would do. But for now, because he needed to stay with the gang if he was going to save them, Micah would have to remain alive.

It was a good start. Soon, he would see if it made any difference.

* * *

It was good to see the camp mood improving, and Arthur stuck around the area for a few days. He hunted for Pearson, avoided Dutch, and chatted with Hosea. Mary-Beth was starting to write stories again, and she asked Arthur to keep an eye out for a fancy pen. Miss Grimshaw was yelling less. And Arthur soon found himself kicking Uncle awake, itching to head into town. There was a certain bounty he wanted to collect.

The horse he had taken from the Adler farm was good, but he wasn't Dakota, the Hungarian Halfbred he picked up from a Mr. Benedict Allbright. Technically, the man should be grateful that Arthur had bothered to leap onto the mare and chase him down the river that had become the horse's namesake. The fifty dollar bounty hadn't been too bad, either, but Dakota had carried him faithfully until her dying day… and his as well.

But first, he had to save Tilly and Karen. Then, he was chasing Jimmy Brooks to the edge of a cliff. And pen he received was rather nice, so he gave it to Mary-Beth. It wasn't exactly the type she was looking for, but she would make better use of it than he would. They parted ways, Uncle driving the girls back to camp, and he went to join Javier and Charles in the saloon.

"Where's Bill?" he asked after greeting them. Behind them, he heard Bill shouting and then throwing punches. Right, the bar fight.

"What the hell is going on down here?" the mountain by the name of Tommy shouted as he stalked down the steps. Oh, great.

"No, Tommy, stay outta this!" the bartender said, but Tommy set his eyes on Javier, and Arthur knew he would have to fight the man again.

"Hey, stop!" Arthur shouted at Tommy, who was currently beating Javier over a table. Tommy didn't seem to hear him. "That's enough!" Arthur pulled back and punched him as hard as he could, hoping to end this in one swing. It didn't work. Tommy simply turned to Arthur and chucked him over the table.

"Let's just let this go, alright?" Arthur continued, but then Tommy tossed him out the window with a crash of breaking glass.

But Arthur didn't land in the muddy streets of Valentine. He rolled over to a dark sky, hard rock beneath his back, the distant echo of gunshots in his ears.

"Come on, pretty boy…" he heard, and Micah Bell was striding over, that sneer on his face.

"No, not this time," Arthur shouted, blocking the strike before sinking his fist into the side of the rat's jaw. Micah seemed tall, or maybe he was just sicker than he thought. He was keeping up with Arthur, landing more and more blows to Arthur's side, and Arthur wondered how long he could keep this up.

One of Micah's punches sent him staggering back, and then an arm wrapped around his neck from behind. Arthur yelled, sending his elbow back again and again into Micah's side until he finally broke free, before spinning and tackling Micah to the ground. From there he rained blow after blow into Micah's face, watching blood spill from his nose and cover his disgusting yellow mustache, the smile never wavering, even as his eyes lost focus and Arthur went for the throat…

"Stop, stop! Please!" a man shouted and grabbed his arm, and Arthur turned to be rid of whatever lawman or Pinkerton had come to save their rat.

And found himself staring at the sickly face of Thomas Downes.


	5. Chapter 5: Small Changes

Sorry about the minor cliffhanger last chapter...

* * *

**Chapter 5: Small Changes**

Arthur scrambled back, putting some distance between him and Downes. His breathing was rapid, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that he was in Valentine. On the ground, Tommy's face was a bloody mess, with Mr. Downes trying his best to stay between the two of them.

"You won the fight already, surely that's enough?" Downes continued, but Arthur was turning and running.

"Arthur? Are you OK?" Charles shouted after him, but Arthur couldn't seem to hear or see properly just yet, and soon found himself in an alley. He leaned into a barrel while catching his breath, and the muttering crowd on the main street dispersed.

"You hurt, _mi amigo_?" Javier and Charles followed him down the alley. Arthur simply waved them off, still gasping.

"I'll be alright, just give me a minute," he said.

"Arthur!" It was Dutch's voice. "Picking fights so soon?"

Dutch had brought Josiah Trelawny, and news of Sean.

Sean. One moment, standing next to them in Rhodes. The next, on the ground with a bullet hole in his skull.

Charles left to scout Blackwater, Javier went with Josiah. In a few days, if Arthur remembered rightly, he would receive word that he needed to join them to catch the bounty hunters in the act of moving Sean. So he had a little time.

As he wandered down the street, he caught Mr. Downes eyeing him from his charity booth on the corner. An idea forming in his mind, he approached.

"Sorry, about earlier," he began.

Mr. Downes huffed. "Did you really have to beat him into the ground?"

"I was… uh… well, remembering a different fight," Arthur admitted. "Thank you, for stopping me."

"Oh," Mr. Downes paused, "you're welcome."

"Let me give you something, to say thanks," Arthur said, reaching into his satchel for his money. There wasn't much, but considering he knew about some jobs in advance, he could afford to spend a little now. He had no idea if Herr Strauss had already approached the family and offered a loan, but maybe this would allow the family to pay off whatever they owed if it already happened.

"No, no that isn't necessary."

"No, cm'on, take it!"

Eventually, Thomas Downes relented, and took the offered bills, and Arthur wandered back to camp. One problem solved, he hoped.

The next morning, Hosea was up early, itching to get out of camp. He told tale of the one thousand pound bear, one which had nearly eaten them both on the first round. But its skin had fetched a pretty good price, and he had enjoyed his trip with Hosea. So they rode into town, Arthur sold the black brute of a shire, but didn't buy a new horse. He would stick with the Tennessee Walker for now.

"You seem to be getting along better with John nowadays," Hosea said.

Arthur had been trying a little harder to be nice to John this time around. Considering all he sacrificed for him at the end and how much John had tried to be a father, he had forgotten that at this time, he had been rather cold towards his brother.

"Yeah, I guess I finally forgave him."

"So how do you like the new camp?" Hosea asked.

"Pretty good," Arthur said. "I hope we stick around for a bit."

"But not too long. I want to head back west, and I'm sure you do, too."

This time, when they laid the bait, Arthur kept Hosea from going to check it. The bait did work as intended, after all, and he decided to spare the both of them the pure terror of a hungry bear charging towards them. The monster did still make a run for it, even after Arthur and Hosea landed some shots, but it didn't take long to track and skin it.

After they departed, Arthur picked up the bounty on Benedict Allbright and went to fetch his horse. He hogtied the man immediately, deciding the trip down the river was not what either of them needed, and collected the money. With the matter settled, Arthur rode off into the woods and out of sight.

"Hello, girl," he said to Dakota. The huge dappled gray mare was still a little skittish around him, but he knew exactly how to calm her down. He switched Allbright's tack for his own, and headed home.

"Mrs. Adler," he called awkwardly to Sadie, but he knew they weren't friends just yet. Her eyes were still sad and grieving, and not the wild, revenge driven stare he had come to know and respect. "If you are needing a horse at all, I recently came across one more to my liking. You can take the brown and white one."

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," she said. Sadie wasn't ready yet, but when she was, Arthur would be there to ride at her side.

Miss Grimshaw mentioned Reverend Swanson again, and Arthur retrieved the drunk man without playing a round of cards, keeping him from wandering onto the bridge.

He rescued Sean with Charles and Javier. The kid was exactly what he remembered: loud and confident. "Can I get a hug, Arthur?" he said, and this time Arthur obliged, hugging him for a little longer than Sean was probably expecting.

He went with Kieran to Six Point Cabin. It was too bad that Colm wouldn't be there. Kieran saved his life, and asked to stay with the rest of the Van der Linde gang. He would treat Kieran better this time, protect him this time.

He ran into a few people from before. Albert Mason, the photographer that seemed determined to get himself eaten. Theodore Levin, who really wanted to publish a book about the "great" gunslinger Jim Calloway. Deborah MacGuiness, the paleo-whatever-it-was-called who was looking for bones.

And slowly, Arthur settled back into the life he remembered so well, and so fondly. Sure, he was still wary of Dutch, constantly observing the ways he interacted with the rest of the gang to catch a glimpse of what he had become. But Dutch seemed to have relaxed since they arrived at Horseshoe Overlook, and maybe, Arthur could keep him that way.

According to his journal, he had a few days before anything major would occur, mainly Lenny returning with news of Micah's arrest. He still hadn't decided what to do about that. If he could find a way, he could get Micah without letting him shoot up the entire town. Perhaps he could visit the family and collect Micah's guns first, though he couldn't guarantee that Micah wouldn't decide to seek revenge anyways.

The other option, was of course, to just let Micah die.

Arthur was riding Dakota through the East Grizzlies, knowing the territory of a wolf whose pelt had earned him a good amount of money. He realized that he was near the Wapiti Reservation. The letter to Cornwall sat heavy in his satchel, and he could deliver the warning. Introducing himself to Rains Fall earlier this time could prove helpful for both of them. The Chief had shared good wisdom in his final days, and his son had saved Arthur's life at the cost of his own. Arthur was determined to do everything he could to keep Eagle Flies away from Dutch.

He wasn't known at the reservation yet, and his arrival was met with much apprehension. "I'm… uh… I'm here to speak with Chief Rains Fall," Arthur said. He was directed to the familiar tent.

"Hello?" he called as he entered. Rains Fall raised his eyes to meet Arthur's, and what struck Arthur the most was the peace that those eyes held. Later, after months of fighting with the U.S. Government, a weariness had begun to show, and finally grief when Arthur rode back with his dying son.

"I saw you on the wagon trail," Rains Fall said. "Why have you come here now?"

"I found out some news about the reservation, and, well, I thought you should be warned." He pulled the letter out and passed it to the Chief. "I got it from… uh… it doesn't matter how I got it, but Cornwall is making a move for this land."

Rains Fall scanned the letter, then look at Arthur. Studied him. "If I may ask, Mr…"

"Arthur Morgan."

"Mr. Morgan, why did you bring us this?"

There were many reasons, of course. "I just needed you to know."

"It seems as if you know us, yet we are only meeting now."

Had there been others in the tent, Arthur would have never said anything. But they were alone, and after weeks of keeping the secret bottled up, Arthur found himself spilling everything. "Because I have met you," he said. "We met in Saint Denis, a few months from now, because you were friends with a man I met at a party. Evelyn Miller, I think his name was. My friends and I, well, we aren't good folk, but we were worse then. Dutch, he's our leader but to me, then, he was like a father. But, Dutch had changed, and he convinced your son to stir up trouble with the army but he was just using Eagle Flies!

"Look," he continued, "a lot of people died. Friends died, your son died, and I died. Except when I died, I woke up before any of it had happened." Arthur hadn't meant to burden Rains Fall with the idea that his son had died, could still die, but once he started talking, he couldn't bring himself to stop, tears rolling from his eyes before he even realized.

"You've seen the future?"

"Seen it, lived it. Really don't want to live it again."

The tent fell into uncomfortable silence, as Arthur brought his breathing back to normal and Rains Fall absorbed everything that had been said. "Thank you, Mr. Morgan," he finally said. "I will take this warning and consider how to proceed. There are friends of ours in the city. Maybe starting now will help prevent what you have seen." Arthur took that as his cue to leave and stood, but then he heard, "But I must know. How did my son die?"

Arthur swallowed, turning back. "He saved my life. When I was in trouble and Dutch left, Eagle Flies saved me and got hurt."

Rains Fall just nodded. Arthur slipped outside and mounted Dakota. Again, he had no way of knowing if he had helped or not, but just keeping Eagle Flies away from Dutch could save his life. If possible, he would return to check back, see if there was any more he could do. But for now, he had to return to camp.

One night of rest, some hunting for Mr. Pearson, and Lenny was riding into camp. Shouting about Micah. Scared out of his mind.

"Just one drink," Arthur said, fully intending to keep to that this time.

They woke up in jail.


	6. Chapter 6: Wagons and Trains

I know Arthur likes Mary. I don't like Mary. Just so you know.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Wagons and Trains**

_I don't know if I've helped anyone yet. Well, maybe in small ways. I gave Thomas Downes some money. I don't know exactly when Herr Strauss lent him cash, but now he should be able to pay him back or avoid a loan altogether._

_Visited Rains Fall, too. Let him know that Cornwall was making a bid for his land. Let him know a lot, actually. I trust that he can keep what I said a secret, and perhaps help his people, too._

* * *

The letter was waiting for him when he got back to camp, and he almost threw it away. Oh, Mary Linton. They were both such fools.

But he refused to let her brother Jaime hang around with a bunch of crazies, so he went. He rode into Valentine, and knocked on the door of Chadwick Farm.

Before, when he was still in love, before she wrote to him and said it was all over, he had been too blind to care that she was only using him.

"Why did you write, Mary?" he asked, after she talked about her husband's death, and there's the request. To go save her brother.

"So, I'm too rough to marry into your family, but it's okay to as me to help in saving your family," he said bitterly. It didn't matter that they loved each other, or that she still claimed to care for him. She shut that door the day she mailed him the ring back. And now, talking to Mary once again, Arthur could see that day coming.

Despite his best efforts, the kid still tried to run again. He knew he should have borrowed a faster horse. Dakota was strong, but didn't win too many races. Still, knowing what the kid was going to do helped him prepare, and he shot the gun out of Jaime's hand.

"Are you and Mary sweet on each other again?" the kid asked, but Arthur brushed the question off.

"Listen kid, your father is a coward, and a bully. You go make a life for yourself, figure out what makes you happy. Just steer clear of the turtles! You are better than that, kid!"

Mary shouted and hugged Jaime as soon as they arrived at the station, and he made a decision.

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, and she heads towards the train.

"Mary, wait," he said. He sighed, wondering if this was for the best, but in the end, it probably was. If he didn't do this now, she eventually would. "It was good seeing you, but… well, I think its about time we parted ways for good."

"Arthur-" she started, but he shook his head.

"It would never work, Mary. You don't want to be part of the life I lead, and I'm never going to happy in the one you want. In fact, as soon as I can, I plan to head back west. It's best we just say our goodbyes now."

Tears were forming in the corner of Mary's eyes, but she didn't deny the truth of his words. In fact, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small object, handing it to him. "Here," she said. "I suppose you should have this back, now." It was the ring he had given her. He never knew she had carried it on her person all these years.

"Goodbye, Mary," he said, for the last time.

* * *

"What if we could force a train to stop," John said.

John did have a pretty good idea, Arthur thought. The train did stop, and they made off with a decent amount of money. A pity that the law showed up, and he never did learn how they knew about it.

"That is brilliant," he said after John explained it all. "I think I can get us a oil wagon." Lately, his relationship with John had been much better. He could tell at first that John was surprised by his change in attitude.

But he couldn't help teasing Marston just a little. "You might be the first bastard to ever have half his brains eaten by a wolf and end up more intelligent!"

"Shut up!" Marston said as they both headed to their horses.

"Arthur," Dutch called.

"What is it, Dutch." He noticed Dutch pause at his tone.

"I need you to head to Strawberry, break Micah out of the jail there."

Arthur had dreaded this moment. In the past, he had delayed getting the oil wagon in order to save Micah. But he couldn't bring himself to do it this time.

"Now is not really a good time, Dutch."

"Arthur, they are going to hang him for murder."

"Here's hoping," he said. Micah had many murders to hang for.

"Arthur!"

"Dutch, he's a fool! A hotheaded idiot, and I'm not saving him." Arthur continued to Dakota.

"Arthur, I am asking you to do this."

"You like Micah so much, you go save him. You're the only one who does."

"He would save you, Arthur," Dutch spat out.

"No, no he wouldn't."

Dutch was livid. Arthur knew why, before he would have never talked back to Dutch in that way. When he finally started to, in Beaver Hollow, Dutch's anger boiled over in snide comments and aggressive attitudes. Though he wasn't surprised to see it now, a small part had hoped that the Dutch he had seen in his final days hadn't always been there. Unfortunately for Dutch, Arthur was past trying to make him happy. "I'm going to work a job with Marston, actually make some money for this gang. More than Micah's ever done."

There was a risk, of course. Whoever Dutch ended up sending to Strawberry could be thrust into the same dangerous situation. Or they could fail to bust Micah out, and Micah would die. It wasn't a good solution, but for today, Arthur needed to be selfish.

Based on the stares, most of the gang had seen his outburst. Some looked uncomfortable, but a few looked as though they agreed with him. Micah was not well liked at all, and Dutch was truly the only reason he had lasted in the gang.

He didn't look back at Dutch. He rode straight to a deserted stretch of road. Every morning, the oil wagons rode between Valentine and the refinery, and if he had timed it right, he could grab one today.

Sure enough, one was rolling down the road an hour after he arrived. Pulling his bandanna up, he galloped down in front of the wagon, gun drawn.

"You have two choices, run, or get shot over a wagon." The driver ran.

He hid the wagon near the rundown shack, and rode over the Emerald Ranch. There, he met with the fence and Hosea, stole a wagon, gained an ally by robbing his cousin (by marriage).

"I may have pissed off Dutch," Arthur warned as he and Hosea rode back to camp.

"Why? What did you do to him?"

"I told him what I thought about Micah. Refused to go save him from jail."

"Oh."

"I just don't trust Micah. He only cares about himself and doesn't fit with the gang. And Dutch can't see it!"

"And what did Dutch say?" Arthur liked talking with Hosea, and wished he had done it more. Hosea's calm understanding and patience was the reason Arthur had always loved Hosea the most, and the biggest missing piece in their gang after Hosea was killed.

"He got mad. Seems to think Micah belongs." Arthur chuckled. "He said that Micah would save me if I was in jail, though I know that isn't true."

"I'll try talking to him," Hosea offered. "Try to make him see what everyone else sees." It was a nice gesture, but one Arthur worried wouldn't help.

Dutch wouldn't look at Arthur, except to say that he sent Javier to fetch Micah. Arthur was a little worried for Javier, even though it still stung a little that Javier couldn't see what Dutch had become in Beaver Hollow.

That was, until, and exhausted and bleeding Javier had turned up in camp a day later. "It's just a graze, I'm fine," Javier had groaned, as a guilty Arthur apologized, leading him to his tent on one side and John on the other.

"What happened?" Dutch demanded.

"I broke Micah out, everything was fine, then he went crazy. Shot up the entire town just for to get his guns back from some guy."

"It's alright, it's not your fault," Arthur said, as Dutch asked, "Where is Micah?"

"Out looking for a score, so you forgive him," Javier said. Arthur patted Javier on the arm, then backed away so that Miss Grimshaw could scold Javier for carelessness. And bandage him up.

"You hear what your friend Micah did, Dutch? Shoot up half a town?"

"People make mistakes," Dutch said.

"No Dutch, THAT is not a mistake. He could have gotten Javier killed. Over some guns!"

"Perhaps, if you had gone like I asked," Dutch began, quiet and cold.

Arthur shook his head. "Oh, no, you think this would have been any different? That I wouldn't have come back looking like Javier?

"Arthur…"

"No, Dutch, I have had it with you defending that bastard. He doesn't care about anyone but himself! You should have never let him into this gang!" Arthur stormed off, and before he reached his tent, he saw Hosea step up to try to talk Dutch down. Dutch simply waved Hosea off, leaving him standing in the middle of camp.

One thing Arthur hadn't noticed last time was just how much Hosea and Dutch seemed to argue. Before, he had always taken Dutch's side of things, but now that Arthur was defending Hosea's ideas, Dutch would ask for his opinion a lot less. That meant Arthur was stuck awkwardly listening as Hosea pushed Dutch to head back west, and Dutch insisting that there was a plan.

A few days later, Arthur set off to the shack where he had left the oil wagon. Charles rode with them, and Sean tagged along.

Sean was trying to learn how to quick draw, bragging and full of himself. Arthur immediately showed how it was done, shooting a bottle off the wall before Sean could blink.

He's like an annoying little brother, Arthur thought. He had wrote something like that after Sean died. "Maybe, if you are nice to me, I can teach you how to draw better," Arthur offered.

"Can I come along on this raid with yah?" Sean asked.

Arthur let Sean argue his case, laughing inside just a little. Of course he could let Sean come on this one, it went alright the last time. Alright, as in no one got seriously hurt or killed. When Marston expressed doubt, Arthur waved it off and said, "It'll be fine."

Didn't stop Arthur from giving Sean shit on the ride, but Sean could give as good as he got. Annoying little brother, indeed.

The train stopped as soon as the driver spotted the wagon, Arthur standing on top of it. He and John collected valuables from the passengers, but Arthur left a little early to meet Sean at the baggage car, quickly taking out the men waiting for him.

Despite clearing the car as fast as he could, it wasn't fast enough. Soon, the two law men were showing up. This time, Arthur whispered to John and Charles to bail on the train, moving quickly before more men appeared. They grabbed the horses and took off, but not before the lawmen spotted them and they were in a desperate gallop through the trees.

"Everyone alright?" he called out, once he was sure they were safe. He got three tired but affirmative responses. "Good, head back to camp, and MAKE SURE you are not followed." Not the end he had hoped for this evening, but still, it was a pretty good take. The information had been solid, the folks just as rich as Marston had hoped.

They still needed more money, at least that's what Dutch always said they needed. Arthur still wasn't sure what they needed for a long term plan. But he was starting to realize that maybe the best way to save everyone was to leave Dutch behind.


	7. Chapter 7: The Fishing Trip

So for those who follow this story, you are getting this chapter a little early due to a last minute opening in class I want to take tomorrow morning. But don't worry, I will post chapter 8 tomorrow when class is done...

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Fishing Trip**

_Dutch won't hear anything said against Micah. I can't believe I never noticed how much that rat had sunk his claws into him. Or maybe I did, I just hoped that Dutch cared about the rest of us, too._

_Javier got hurt because I refused to break Micah out of jail. He's OK now, but I'm worried. If I change the wrong thing, more people could die._

* * *

"I noticed you haven't put too much money in the box, Mr. Morgan.

Miss Grimshaw finally cornered Arthur regarding his contributions. It wasn't entirely true, Arthur did slip money into the camp regularly. The amount, however, was much lower than the camp was used to from him.

That wasn't to say Arthur hadn't made money. He had made a lot in fact, remembering where gold bars were stashed from treasure maps he had once followed. There were a few houses full of crazies that held some jewels. He had sold some pretty nice animal pelts, too. But that was his money now. He wouldn't contribute to Dutch's grand scheme. No sum of cash would ever match Dutch's wild, fantastical ideas.

So, he had his own secret stash, for when he figured out what to do with it. He considered Dutch's original plan. If he made enough money, he could move the gang north, slip around the Pinkertons and West Elizabeth, then head west. He remembered California fondly, they could buy some land, be a family. Make money legally for once.

It was the best choice, really. The world was changing, and if they didn't change, they would die. Just like last time.

"I've been a little busy, Miss Grimshaw," he tried to brush her off, but she continued.

"These people need money and food, Mr. Morgan."

"Alright, alright. I'll go see what I can stir up."

He already had some cash in his satchel, but he obviously didn't want Miss Grimshaw to know that. Mounting Dakota, he spent the morning hunting for Mr. Pearson, bringing back a deer and slipping some cash in the box, just enough to afford new medical supplies from town. Dutch watched him do it. Micah as well.

Unfortunately for Arthur, Micah had made his return, having robbed a stagecoach and boasted about singlehandedly taking out droves of O'Driscolls. Dutch lapped it up, welcoming Micah back with open arms. The rest of the camp? Not so much.

"Arthur!" Abigail called, pulling Arthur away from his thoughts.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"Could you do something with Jack?" Ah yes, right on time. Fishing with Jack, the day he met the Pinkerton agents for the first time. Not that he had been able to change much, but he would see if Agents Ross and Milton had found them yet again.

"Sure, Abigail. I'll take him for the afternoon," he said, and went to collect Jack.

"Hey there, Jack. You want to come fishing with me?"

"OK!"

"You have a fishing pole, don't you?"

"Yeah, Uncle Hosea made me one!" Jack said, running off to his things.

For a second, as he lifted Jack in front of him, he wondered if he should pick a different fishing spot. But, he supposed, it didn't matter. If the agents wanted to find him, they would.

"Here's a good spot," he said, lower Jack down and handing him his rod. He showed Jack how to cast a line, but knew that it wouldn't take long for the kid to get bored. Sure enough, Jack was off picking flowers, leaving Arthur alone to catch dinner for the evening.

"Look, Jack, it's a bluegill!" he called, but Jack wasn't paying attention. After he caught a few fish, he noticed the sun beginning to set, and Jack was calling him over.

"What a fine young man! And in such complex circumstances."

Arthur stiffened, turning slowly to face Agent Milton of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. The man who had chased them across states. Who had taken Abigail, almost killed Sadie and himself. That is until Abigail shot him.

"Arthur, isn't it? Arthur Morgan?"

"I think you are a little confused, friend," he tried.

"No, you're Arthur Morgan. Van der Linde's most trusted associate."

Agent Milton introduced himself, and Agent Ross. Ross had mostly been a shadow to Milton while chasing them, holding his rifle up over his shoulder and his finger dangerously curled around the trigger. All the while, Arthur was shifting in front of Jack.

"You're a wanted man, Mr. Morgan. Five thousand dollars for your head alone."

"Five thousand dollars?" Arthur said. Ironically, if he continued the way he was, he could have that much money soon. "Can I pay it off in cash?"

"We want Van der Linde," Milton continued.

"Haven't seen Dutch in months."

"Is that so? Because I heard a guy fitting his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass. Survivors said it was O'Driscolls, but, well, O'Driscolls tend to not leave survivors at all. And Van der Linde is… unique."

Shit. So they hadn't been fooled after all.

"This is my offer, Mr. Morgan," Milton continued. "Bring in Van der Linde and you have my word, you won't swing."

"I haven't seen Van der Linde," Arthur said. "And even if I had, I wouldn't trust your word. Besides, I haven't done anything wrong, aside from not playing the game to your rules."

"Spare me the philosophy lesson, I've already heard it from Mac Callander."

Later, Arthur could never quite identify what it was about the comment that caused him to snap. He already knew Mac was dead, had held his tongue every time Dutch spoke about looking for Mac and getting him back. But the way Milton spoke about killing Mac slowly, calling it mercy, reminded Arthur of everything else the sadistic man had done to his family. This was the man who killed Hosea in front of his eyes.

Arthur could draw faster than most gunslingers, a fact he had learned chasing down stories for that author. Still, Agent Ross already had his rifle out. Arthur aimed there first, bullet cleanly exiting the man's skull, but not before Ross had pulled his own trigger. Arthur staggered as something slammed low into his right shoulder, causing his aim to dip as he turned to Milton. His next shot was not clean, landing on Milton's chest just as the man's revolver cleared the holster. Milton pulled the trigger as he fell, but his shot went wide, a slight burn along Arthur's left side as the bullet barely clipped him. The whole time, Jack was crouched low, arms clinging to Arthur's leg.

The rage cleared from Arthur's mind, leaving him to realize what exactly had happened. "Jack, Jack are you alright?" he said frantically, the little boy sobbing. "Hey, Jack, it's OK. You are safe. Are you hurt at all?" Jack was shook his head no, and Arthur sighed with relief. That didn't mean they were safe yet.

The pain was beginning to catch up with Arthur, and he looked down at his shoulder. It was bleeding. A lot. He quickly pressed his left hand against the wound, blinking a few times to clear his vision. This wasn't good. He was alright feeling a little lightheaded.

He whistled to Dakota, but quickly realized a problem. Dakota was a tall horse, and he wasn't sure he would be able to get both himself and Jack on her back.

"Uncle Arthur, you're hurt," the boy sobbed. It really was bad, so Arthur made a decision.

"Hey, I'll be OK Jack, but I need you to do something really brave, alright?" Jack nodded again, tears streaming down his red face. "I'm going to boost you up on Dakota, and you are going to ride back to camp."

"By myself?"

"Don't worry, Dakota knows the way to go."

"Don't make me leave, Uncle Arthur!" Jack cried, throwing himself around Arthur's leg again.

"Jack, I need you to listen to me now!" he felt bad yelling at the boy, but he needed Jack to do this. "Listen," he said, more gentle this time, "my arm is hurt, it's not too bad, but I can't get up on Dakota. So I need you to do something really important. When you get back, you tell Uncle Hosea and your Pa that I'm down the hill and on the river to the right, so they can come get me."

"OK, Uncle Arthur." Oh, Jack was being so brave right now.

Getting Jack onto Dakota's saddle was a little difficult, having to let go of the pressure on his wound to lift until Jack could get something to hold on to. Then, it was a combination of Arthur pushing up and Jack pulling himself until he was finally settled. But streaks of Arthur's blood were left on Jack's coat and Dakota's side, and the effort had his gasping in pain.

"Now, wrap your hands around the saddle horn, like that. Good, take him home, girl!" He lightly slapped Dakota's rump, sending the horse into a slow, rolling canter. Jack turned his head to watch Arthur as Dakota took him away. Once he was sure Dakota was going the right way, seeing her turn up the hill in the distance, he let himself relax a little. Dizzy, he slid back against a rock until he was on the ground.

His wound was bleeding too much. Ross had gotten him pretty low on the right shoulder, and he distantly noticed his breathing was turning into more of a wheezing. It reminded him of being sick, each breath harder than the last.

He hoped that Jack made it back. He hadn't meant to put the boy in danger when he pulled his gun.

His hand, weakly pressing on the wound, was slowly sliding away, his head bobbing forward to rest on his chest as his vision grew more and more blurry. Through his closing eyes, he thought he saw a stag, but it disappeared when he heard the distant sound of horses.

"Arthur! Dutch, he's here!"

He blinked as John's face appeared in front of his own, hands were now putting painful pressure on his shoulder. He let out a groan. "Jack… is Jack…"

"Jack's fine, Arthur. Jesus, that's a lot… you're going to be fine."

"Arthur!" a second voice called, one he realized belonged to Dutch. "John, we need to get him back to camp. Now!"

"I know, I know. Hold on, Arthur, we'll get you help."

Hands shifted under his shoulders and legs as he was lifted, pain increasing and causing him to cry out. He was lifted onto a horse, and then they were galloping down the road. The whole way, a constant muttering of assurances and apologies filled his ears.

He didn't notice the horses stop, but there were hands on him again, then a bottle of something awful tasting against his lips, and everything faded away.


	8. Chapter 8: The Journal

In which Hosea is a nosy father...

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Journal**

Something was different about Arthur, Hosea thought.

As a gang member, Arthur was the one they relied on the most. No one worked nearly as hard, brought nearly as much money, and supported Dutch as much as Arthur had.

But lately? Arthur was standing up for himself, going against Dutch's word. And didn't that drive Dutch insane. Hosea could tell, his friend seemed to send more glares Arthur's way. The entire camp could feel the tension, especially Molly, who had to deal with Dutch's frustration the most. At night, Hosea could pick up on the angry whispers as they tried, in vain, to keep their fighting away from the rest of the camp.

"Dutch, we need to talk," he finally said, when Arthur was out of the camp.

"What is it, Hosea?" Dutch sounded tired.

"You need to talk to Arthur."

"No, Arthur needs to apologize!"

"Dutch-"

"Hosea, he refused to help Micah. He didn't want to do the train job. He keeps doubting me!"

Hosea sighed. Sometimes, Dutch was difficult to get through to, and he had to be careful. "Dutch, do you even listen to what Arthur says when he disagrees with you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Arthur was right, up in the mountains. That train job was a risk we didn't need. We haven't even sold those bonds yet, and we've been fine these last few weeks."

"But we will-"

"And Micah?" Hosea continued. "He is hotheaded, and I can understand why Arthur doesn't trust him."

Dutch opened his mouth to say more, probably to shout at Hosea about doubting as well, but a different shout from the trees interrupted him.

"Mr. Van der Linde! Mr. Matthews!" It was Tilly, leading a large gray horse, Jack clutching the saddle horn. There was blood on his jacket.

"Jack!" They heard Abigail yelling, running over to help her son off Arthur's horse as Dutch and Hosea raced over from the tents. John also made his way over, fear written across his face.

"Jack, are you hurt?" Abigail asked. Jack's eyes were red and his cheeks stained with tears, but he shook his head no.

"Jack, its alright, tell us what happened," Hosea said.

"Uncle Arthur… he said… he said I had to go get you and Pa," the boy sniffled.

"You did good, Jack, real good. Do you know where Arthur is?"

"He said… down the hill… to the right."

"I'll find him, Hosea," John said. "Me too," Dutch said, the two of them heading off Arthur. Hosea was left behind to wait for news.

Arthur couldn't be hurt that bad, could he? He had gotten Jack to ride back, but the blood? Hosea was terrified.

"There were two men, they hurt Uncle Arthur," Jack continued to cry. Abigail hugged her son.

Minutes passed, with Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, and Reverend Swanson waiting anxiously for Dutch to return. Then, the sound of horses, The Count and Old Boy burst through the trees, Dutch was yelling for them, and Arthur…

Arthur's right shoulder was drenched in blood, his face pale and sweaty. Even as Charles and John pulled him off the back of Dutch's horse, he barely made a sound. His eyes were half open, glassy and drifting.

"In here, quickly," Hosea guided them into Arthur's tent. They set him down, and Hosea was there, providing pressure to Arthur's injury. He noticed a second patch of blood on his left side, but it wasn't nearly as large. Arthur whimpered, trying to move away.

"It will be OK, Arthur," he said, and Reverend Swanson was pressing a bottle of painkiller to Arthur's lips. Arthur swallowed some, and his eyes drifted shut. The three set to work, stopping the bleeding, and pulling the bullet out of Arthur's shoulder.

Dutch hovered off to the side as Miss Grimshaw finished stitching up Arthur's side.

"It was the Pinkertons," he said. "They're dead. Arthur killed them."

Hosea was shaking, and could only just nod. He had told Miss Grimshaw that he would watch Arthur first. His boy was still unconscious, and Hosea knew they would have to carefully check for infection and fever.

"So they've found us."

"They know we are in the area, at least. I sent Micah and Bill to move the bodies somewhere else."

"We will have to wait for Arthur to wake up to find out what happened."

Dutch continued to stand awkwardly in the corner, until Hosea asked, "How's Jack?"

"I don't know, Abigail is taking care of him."

Eventually, Dutch left, and Hosea settled in for the night.

Hours later, he was waking Miss Grimshaw. Arthur's skin was hot, his previously pale face now flushed. Under closed lids, his eyes darted back and forth, tiny gasps occasionally containing muttered words that Hosea couldn't understand. Hosea was left running a wet cloth over his forehead until he was forced to go get some rest, and a rotation of people began. Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen all took turns sitting with Arthur. Charles stopped by. John joined Hosea the next morning when it was Hosea's turn again. Even Sadie Adler poked her head in.

Later, when Hosea was alone, he started to tidy up the tent, just for something to take his mind away from the panic that had settled in his chest the moment Arthur's horse had turned up. Arthur's arrival had thrown the place into chaos, and he didn't think Arthur would appreciate his clothes strewn across the grass, fortunately a little contained since they had lowered the tent flaps.

His son was still feverish, though they had kept it from getting too bad. Miss Grimshaw would be by soon to check his injuries and change the bandages. But Arthur was still too pale, and he hadn't moved all night. His breathing was quiet and shallow.

One of the items on the ground was Arthur's satchel, its contents spilling out. He sighed, picking up the horse treats and some herbs Arthur had obviously found. Some of the things had been kicked under Arthur's cot, and he noticed Arthur's journal open.

He swore he hadn't meant to look in it at all. But the image caught his eyes, a man sprawled on the ground, dark shading around the man's head that looked suspiciously like blood. But that didn't give Hosea a pause. It was the name.

_Sean._

What the hell? Hosea thought. He flipped the page.

_Sean has been killed. I'm more sad than I can admit. I loved that little loud mouthed wretch more than I knew - he was like an annoying little brother to me. What fun we had riding together - and now, he's dead. His head shot half off in an ambush. What a goddamn mess we are making of things. Still NO Confederate GOLD, but a shit load of trouble._

What the hell?

Sean was outside. Hosea had heard him talking with the others (Arthur was right about loud), and they had never been far enough south to care for something like Confederate money. What was Arthur writing about?

So he started flipping pages backwards, trying to find something, anything that correlated to the last few weeks. Arthur had bought this journal in Blackwater, surely there had to be something familiar in here about that!

But Arthur had written about a town called Rhodes, some feud between two families. He had written about Colm O'Driscoll kidnapping him, about being a deputy in a town. Between those notes were drawings, stories of people Arthur had met that he had never mentioned before. Then, Hosea found an entry about Jack. In it, Arthur described going fishing, meeting Pinkerton agents. But there was nothing about an injury, and a few final words about Dutch.

_Dutch don't seem too worried but I am beginning to have some doubts as to this wisdom in his indifference._

Outside the tent, Hosea heard Miss Grimshaw ordering the girls around. Before she wandered in the relieve him, he slipped Arthur's journal in his pocket.

God, what happened to Arthur? Why had he written past this day?

Miss Grimshaw took her place next to Arthur, and Hosea retreated to his own tent. He hated that he was about to invade his son's privacy, but he had to know. Over the next few hours, he learned everything. Arthur had apparently lived all this twice, and the first time? It wasn't pleasant. Tears fell from Hosea's eyes as he read about Jack's kidnapping, and traveling to Saint Denis. He read as Arthur grew more and more worried about Dutch, and Dutch's plans growing risky and dangerous. Then, his own death, followed by Lenny. Arthur returning from Guarma, exhausted, only to have the Pinkertons show up again.

His eyes stung as he read about Arthur's tuberculosis. His son had suffered so much, lost so much, and now he was dying himself. Hosea learned about Dutch's slow descent into madness, abandoning John in prison, and then, Arthur's final message.

_John, protect Abigail and Jack._

_Rains Fall - save your son as you could not save your people._

_Dutch, start listening to them as really loved you._

And the next? Arthur was back in the mountains, the day he had passed out while hunting with Charles, writing about what happened before he died. A final train robbery. John being shot off a train, and Dutch just leaving him. Arthur saving Abigail, and finding out Micah was the rat. Micah killing Arthur after he helped John escape.

No wonder Arthur couldn't stand the sight of Micah. He had been Arthur's killer!

And Dutch? Arthur had seen what happened to Dutch when everything fell apart.

He needed to see his son.

But before he could get there, he was stopped by the last person he wanted to see right now.

"Hosea, how's Arthur? Is something wrong?" Dutch asked when he caught a glimpse of Hosea's face.

Hosea tried to brush past him, muttering, "He's fine," but Dutch grabbed his arm.

"He will get better, he has to."

"All this fuss over Morgan, like always." Hosea's fingers curled into a fist when he heard Micah's sarcastic voice. Not now, he couldn't handle Micah now.

"Can't handle two men, falling off his horse," Micah continued. "Seems to me, Morgan is getting pretty weak-"

CRUNCH! The sound hit Hosea's ears before the pain in his fist registered, and he saw Micah stumbling back. Dutch grabbed his arms and pulled him away from Micah.

"Hosea, what is wrong with you?" Dutch shouted in his ear. Micah cursed and tried to launch himself at Hosea, but Charles had come up from behind to grab him.

"You better watch yourself, old man!" Micah shouted as blood leaked from his nose. Hosea twisted out of Dutch's grasp, and walked towards Arthur's tent.

"Keep Micah away from Arthur. And me!" He ducked inside.

"I couldn't sleep," was his explanation to Miss Grimshaw, who had been listening to the confrontation.

"He hasn't woken up, but he seems better. Still a little warm," she said. Her eyes were a little red as well.

Finally, just as the sun started to peak over the horizon, Arthur stirred. His small whimper when he accidentally pulled on his injuries caused Hosea to sit up immediately. "Arthur?" he called, and Arthur was blinking up at him, hurt and exhausted, but alive.

"Hosea?" he coughed, trying to sit up. Immediately, he groaned when he moved his right arm, flopping back on the cot.

"Here, drink this," Hosea said, helping to lift Arthur's head so he could have some water.

"Is Jack OK?"

"Jack is fine, just a little worried for his Uncle Arthur."

"Good, that's good," Arthur sighed.

"You better not be making a habit out of this, Mr. Morgan," Miss Grimshaw said. Arthur gave a tiny smile, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay awake. "Let me get you something to eat, you are too thin these days. Then, you can go back to sleep."

"What happened, Arthur?" Hosea asked when she was gone, giving Arthur's hand a squeeze. Arthur's fingers curled around his.

"There were Pinkertons, they found me at the river. They want Dutch, told me I would go free if I gave them Dutch."

Just as Arthur had written before. "You got them, Arthur. They're dead."

"Didn't mean to, didn't want Jack in danger."

"I know, son. But Jack is fine."

"He said he killed Mac."

"Oh, Arthur…"

"Couldn't let him kill anyone else," he muttered, eyes starting to slip shut just as Miss Grimshaw returned. Hosea supported Arthur as Susan spooned broth into his mouth. Arthur was barely awake when the bowl was finished. They laid him back on the bed, Hosea running a hand through his hair, and Arthur was asleep once again.

Hosea didn't need to ask. He knew Arthur had killed the Pinkertons because of what was written in his journal.

So, what was going to happen now?


	9. Chapter 9: Moving South

I might have to slow down on updates, I'm afraid. I unfortunately go back to work, and might have to take longer for editing. But the story is written, I just like to take a little extra time with each chapter to make sure everything is OK before I post it.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Moving South**

When Arthur opened his eyes, John was sitting in his tent.

"Hey, Marston," he said, carefully propping himself up with one arm.

"Hey, Arthur. Glad you are looking better."

"Well, I always look better than you," he smiled. "The camp safe?"

"Everyone is fine. A little tense. Hosea punched Micah in the face."

"What? Why?"

"Apparently he called you weak, and Hosea just lost it. The little shit deserved it. Figured someone would punch him eventually. Didn't think it would be Hosea."

They sat in silence for a minute, until John asked, "Do you mind if I bring Jack in? He's been pretty upset these last few days."

"Sure you can."

John walked out and quickly returned with Jack. The boy launched himself at Arthur, ignoring John's hasty instruction of "Careful!" burying his face into Arthur's chest. Arthur grimaced, but stayed silent when the boy started to cry a little. "Are you better, Uncle Arthur?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I'm better."

"Mama said you needed rest and I couldn't see you. I was really scared!"

"I'm sorry I scared you, kiddo. You were really brave, you know that?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course!"

The next few times he woke, it was one of the girls, or Reverend Swanson, checking his bandages or bringing him food. Then, Arthur woke up to Dutch in his tent.

"So, Pinkertons found us," he said without any preamble.

"That's right," Arthur said.

"I had Bill and Micah move the bodies somewhere west of here. Hopefully it keeps them off our trail." Dutch paused, and Arthur could see a lecture forming. "It was stupid, shooting those men."

"What was I supposed to do, let them find us?"

"The law could find us now."

"Seems to me, they already did."

"And why? Because he claimed to have killed Mac? What did I teach you about revenge, son?"

Oh Dutch, Arthur thought. He always preached high and mighty, but betrayed every lesson he tried to impart.

"You think it was just because of Mac? Agent Milton wanted us, Dutch, he wanted you, and he wasn't going to stop! I was protecting my family!"

With a huff, Dutch stood. Running away from his problems again.

"They offered me a deal, Dutch," Arthur called after him. It got Dutch to stop. "My life, if I brought you in."

"So why didn't you take it?" Dutch replied coldly.

"You keep thinking that me disagreeing with you means I'm going to betray you, Dutch," Arthur said. Dutch turned and met his eye, before slipping off. Arthur heard him snap at someone in camp, though he couldn't make out the name as Dutch shouted it too quickly. Lenny poked his head in the tent, and noticing Arthur was still awake, asked, "What's got Dutch all mad now?"

"It seems Dutch can't stand it when anyone disagrees with him," Arthur said, waving Lenny away with his good arm.

Soon, Arthur was wandering around camp, right arm confined to a sling as his shoulder healed. Mostly, he kept the girls company. Mary-Beth let him borrow some of her books, and even shared one of her own stories with him.

Dutch was avoiding him, that much was clear. Arthur noticed that Micah had taken full advantage of it, hanging off of Dutch and constantly adding his terrible advice. It was a dangerous situation, but Arthur wouldn't apologize to Dutch.

But more concerning was Hosea! The man was also keeping his distance for some unknown reason, though Arthur kept catching him staring from across the camp. Finally, Arthur had enough.

"Hosea," he said, walking over the where Hosea sat, on the edge of camp.

"Arthur? Everything alright?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said, taking a seat. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"No! Well, it's… it's a little complicated."

"Hosea, please tell me what's wrong!" He already started to lose Dutch again, he couldn't lose Hosea as well!

But Hosea wouldn't meet his eyes. "Arthur, I did something, well, I swear I didn't mean to do it!"

"Hosea, what?"

"I read your journal."

Arthur froze, sucking in a breath that stayed caught in his lungs.

"It was lying open on the ground, I was putting it away but I saw something you wrote and… I didn't mean to, Arthur. But I kept reading."

"So, you know everything?" Arthur whispered.

"Arthur, is it true? Did you die and come back?" Arthur nodded. "That day you fell off your horse, while hunting with Charles, you came back?" Arthur nodded again, and Hosea, with his eyes watering, pulled Arthur into a hug. Arthur buried his face into Hosea's chest, choking back sobs as Hosea rubbed circles on his back. They stayed that way for a while, Hosea's arms wrapped around his son and whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Is that why you punched Micah?" Arthur asked.

"He deserved it. Someone should have punched him in the face a long time ago." That made Arthur laugh through the tears, just a little.

"I just don't know what to do, Hosea. I want to save everyone, but I don't know how!"

"Well, you don't have to do it alone anymore. And with those agents dead, it will just get easier."

"But Dutch? Hosea, I don't know if I can save Dutch!"

"We will, son. We can do this."

Arthur sat up slowly, taking a few deep breaths. "Thank you, Hosea."

"You're welcome, Arthur. Now, you focus on getting better, and we will make a plan!"

Arthur was sure Hosea wanted to borrow his journal again, to study it more carefully and make a plan, but he was glad that for now, he could keep it himself. He needed to write down everything from the last few days, and think about how things had changed.

And its a good thing he did, because the next morning, he realized that he needed to travel to Emerald Ranch. Albert Mason had been a good friend to him, and today the man would be trying to catch an image of wild horses. There was just one problem. His shoulder still hurt.

"What do you think you are doing?" Dutch shouted in the early hours, causing a couple of sleepy heads to come sticking out of tents.

"I need to get out of camp for a bit," Arthur grumbled. Currently, his attempts to pull himself into the saddle had failed.

"ARE YOU INSANE? YOU ALMOST DIED AND YOU WANT TO RUN OFF AGAIN?"

Hosea came walking up. "Arthur, what's going on?"

"Just feeling restless. I want to go for a ride." He gave Hosea a serious look, one he hoped the man would interpret correctly.

Dutch opened his mouth to argue, but Hosea said, "How about I go with you?"

"Hosea!"

"He will be fine, Dutch! We'll just go for a ride, shoot some rabbits, and come back."

Dutch was seething, but Hosea pushed past him to grab Silver Dollar. Arthur led Dakota to a tree stump, using it to help him get into the saddle. They trotted out of camp to the stares of everyone in camp.

"Alright, what is this about?" Hosea asked when they were far enough away.

"Well, tomorrow is auction day. Last time, well, my friend the photographer was trying to get a picture and I helped him."

"The photographer, Mr. Mason?"

"Yeah," Arthur said. It would take some time before he would get used to talking about his previous life.

His shoulder was aching by the time he stopped Albert Mason from across the field, leaning over his camera and muttering. The wild horses were there as well, keeping their distance from the strange photographer. "So, you're still alive!" Arthur called out, causing Albert to jump.

"Mr. Morgan!" Albert replied, once he got over his shock. "Good gracious, what happened to your arm?"

"Just an unfortunate run-in with some disagreeable folk. This is Hosea, by the way. Hosea, meet Albert Mason, a man determined to get eaten by the local wildlife."

"Not eaten just yet, and hopefully not this time. I've been trying to capture the grace of wild horses here for weeks."

Arthur offered to drive the horses over, with Hosea's help this time. Albert got his picture, and in return, Arthur received the shot that he had helped Albert capture a few weeks ago.

"Take care, Mr. Mason," he said with a smile when he and Hosea departed, and he passed the photograph over for Hosea to take a look.

"So, he almost got eaten taking this?" Hosea asked.

"Oh yes, I had to save him from that one."

"This is what you do then, when you go running off? Help poor photographers and the like?"

"Sometimes." They started riding back in silence, until, "There was this woman, a Sister at a church. She once said that I was happiest when I helped people. I wasn't sure then, but I think she was right."

"I know it seems impossible, but we will help the others," Hosea said.

"Tomorrow, auction day, Cornwall finds Dutch. That's when we move South."

"Maybe it won't happen this time-"

"No," Arthur said. "They know we are in the area. And Cornwall won't stop."

"And so we head south?"

"I don't want to. It ended badly, but… we were safe there for a while. It might be our best option."

To keep their story from earlier straight, they shot a couple of rabbits for Mr. Pearson, who graciously accepted them. Dutch glared at them from his tent, Molly looking uncomfortable as she did her hair.

The next day, Arthur stayed at camp, but heard John grab Charles to go steal some sheep from Emerald Ranch. And hours later, they were riding frantically back.

"We need to pack up, now!" Dutch said. "They found us! Miss Grimshaw, start getting the wagons together. When John gets back, we need to be ready!"

Charles was helping Strauss off his horse, and Hosea was approaching Dutch. "We need to be heading west, Dutch."

"Well, we can't exactly do that, now can we?"

"So what, we keep heading east? This isn't working!"

And there was Micah, coming to whisper in Dutch's ear. "I know of a place, Dewberry Creek. Could set up camp there."

"I've heard of another place that might work, well, Arthur's heard of it," Hosea offered.

"Yeah, uh, Clemens Point. Pretty secluded, by a lake. But Dewberry Creek is on the way, you can check both places." Hosea gave him an odd look, that he ignored for the moment.

"I'll send Charles and John out, when John gets back."

Arthur walked off to start packing his things, but there wasn't much else he could do at the moment. "Why Dewberry Creek?" Hosea asked.

"There's a German family, the father was kidnapped for ransom. I suppose John and Charles would find him if they went to Clemens Point first, but the guy didn't exactly speak English. Probably easier if they get the story from the family, first."

He helped Hosea hitch the horses to their wagon, and climbed awkwardly up to sit next to him. They volunteered to take up the rear, mostly so they could start scheming.

Too much depended on it.


	10. Chapter 10: Three Mariners

Again, sorry if there are some delays between chapters. Trying to write and edit while working and taking a class is pretty difficult. I have zero time.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Three Mariners**

_I don't know if things will be different with Milton and Ross dead. So far, the only thing I've gained is a new scar. That, and hopefully I won't get sick this time._

_Hosea knows now, and wants to help me save everyone. Hopefully, with his help, I can get everyone west. Maybe buy some land. For now, we are back in the South near Rhodes._

* * *

"How's the shoulder?" Dutch asked. There was still an uncertainty and awkwardness in their interactions, but Hosea was working on it. He had talked to Dutch, tried to get him to see that Arthur's hesitation and disagreements were due to differing opinions, and not simply doubt of Dutch himself. Though, that last part wasn't entirely true.

"Getting better. Glad I don't have to wear a sling anymore." Arthur rolled his shoulder a little, feeling the slight ache as still healing muscles protested the sudden movement.

"Imagine us, being down here. Did I ever tell you…" And Arthur began to tune Dutch out. Honestly, did the man ever shut up?

But fishing with Hosea? That was something Arthur was willing to do. It was one of the last fond memories he had with the family. Him, Dutch, Hosea, all out on a boat, singing songs as they rowed back to camp.

And it seemed like he wouldn't even get that! Dutch continued to talk for the entire ride. "We need to stick to the plan," he said. "I've got some ideas hatching, but I need you with me, not against me! Both of you!"

"Not this again," Arthur grumbled, thankfully quiet enough that Dutch didn't notice. Hosea, being next to him, did.

It wasn't until Arthur spotted the lawmen up ahead that he remembered how exactly this day had gone before. There was Josiah Trelawny. Arrested.

"Well, look who it is!" Arthur called.

"Hello, gentlemen! I seemed to have gotten myself in a spot of bother." Even facing the law, Trelawny was his usual collected self.

As Dutch spun his stories, the four Anderson boys broke the lock and ran for the train.

"Arthur…"

"Chase wanted men, got it," Arthur said, already moving his horse to the tracks.

"And take Archibald with you."

"Arthur," Hosea shouted, "Careful with your shoulder!"

And they were off. The impatient Archibald kept urging Arthur to ride faster, and Dakota was definitely doing her best. Still, those fool criminals were on a train heading towards town, so the train would slow eventually. One was especially foolish, getting knocked off the the train by a low hanging beam.

"You think you can jump on there?" Archibald said, and Arthur was pulling his legs up on the saddle to push himself up and onto the train.

He immediately regretted it, landing badly on his right side and sending pain shooting down his arm. No time to worry about it, however, as a bottle broke apart not far from where his head was. The idiot Anderson was chucking bottles at him. He pulled out his lasso, the act of swinging of it above his head torture for his nerves, but soon the first outlaw was tied up.

Hosea was going to kill him.

The second man charged him on top of a train car, and managed to knock Arthur down. Disoriented, he clawed at the hands that were clutching his throat, eventually bringing up his knee to knock that man off balance and throw him off the train as well.

"Come on, Mr. Callahan, I'm counting on you!"

"God damned Deputy Archibald," Arthur muttered, pulling himself up to go after the third and final criminal, the big boss.

The train pulled to a stop, and Anderson pulled a knife. He lunged at Arthur, managing to slice his arm just as Arthur brought his fist up to meet Anderson's face. Sliding behind the man, Arthur wrapped his arm around his neck to choke him, just until he felt Anderson pass out. Exhausted, Arthur sat on the floor of the train car, breathing heavily.

"Hello? Is everything alright in there?" The train car door slid open, and Archibald stepped inside. "Good lord, are you alright?"

"Just dandy," Arthur groaned. "But I'm not picking him up."

"Here, I've got him. Do you need a doctor, sir?"

"No, it doesn't look too bad." The cut was bleeding, but nothing he probably wouldn't have fixed on his own in the wild. If only his ears would stop ringing and his shoulder would stop hurting.

He made his way out of the train to Dakota, the horse breathing heavy as well. The Deputy put Anderson on the back of his own horse, and they were heading into Rhodes.

"That was mighty impressive sir, I have to admit. Are you sure you are alright to ride back?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The cut's not bad, I just hurt my shoulder a few weeks ago. Almost back to normal, but not quite."

"That's too bad, sir. Was it while working with the law? You seem like you served the law yourself at some point."

"No, just ran into some disagreeable men while fishing."

He listened to the deputy explain Rhodes. Hosea and him had talked about keeping Dutch away from the Grays and Braithwaites. The only interaction Arthur intended to have with either family was to help Beau and Penelope.

"Oh good, we are back. That's your friend, right?"

"Yep," Arthur said.

"Arthur, you alright?" Hosea said, running over. "You're bleeding."

"It's just a cut, I'll be fine. Probably should have waited a bit longer before chasing down criminals, though," he sighed.

"There's a doctor next door, I'm taking him over there," Hosea called to Dutch. Dutch waved them off.

"We shouldn't leave Dutch alone with them," Arthur said once they were out of earshot, but Hosea would have none of it. He sat with Arthur while the doctor stitched the cut, and also insisted on the doctor checking his shoulder. Like Arthur had already assumed, the doctor simply recommended resting it for the time being.

Dutch was waiting near the bank, talking with Trelawny.

"Arthur, start sniffing around the Gray's place. Hosea, you find out what you can about the Braithwaites. Though, I'm still up for fishing if you are?"

"Arthur should probably go back to camp," Hosea said.

"No, I want to go fishing," Arthur said.

"You sure, Arthur?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. As long as someone else rows."

"We are taking a boat?" Dutch asked. Shit, too soon.

"Oh, I was telling Arthur that the spot is on a lake, and I saw some boats along the shore earlier." Thank god for Hosea.

Hosea played the old man card, as Dutch begrudgingly called it while he himself rowed the boat into the middle of the lake. Arthur wasn't sure if he would be able to reel in any big fish, but right now what mattered was spending time with Dutch and Hosea. In case things fell apart.

Still, he managed to hook the first catch of the evening, slowly bringing the fish in. It wasn't terrible, a 4 pound trout.

Dutch told the story of the time Arthur buying the bass at the market, Hosea talked about Copper.

"I ever tell you about this guy I met, little north of here?" Arthur cut in. "This guy, name's Jeremy Gill, claimed he was famous and wrote a book. Anyways, he would send his fans stuffed fish! For money! And they paid, too. Asked me to send him any big fish I caught in the mail." He chuckled. "Made me think, we've been in the wrong business all these years. We could've been getting poor saps to send us money for something they could go fish for themselves!"

"So did you do it? Send him fish?" Dutch asked.

"I think Arthur needs to become a better fisherman before that happens!" Hosea laughed.

"You sure about that?" Arthur said, pulling the rod back and hooking a second fish. "Don't see any of you pulling your weight right now!"

"We might make a fisherman of him yet, Hosea," Dutch said.

The sun was setting over the lake by the time they wrapped up their fishing, Dutch rowing them back to camp to the tune of Hosea's and his own songs. Arthur smiled the whole way. This was what he wanted to remember, the three of them being a family.

"I think we'll be alright. As long as I have the two of you by my side, I know everything will be alright," Dutch said, leaning back in the boat and taking in their new surroundings. Arthur could only hope that this time it would be true.

He caught Hosea's eye, and after they drop the fish with Mr. Pearson, they walked away from the tents a little ways.

"Now what?" Hosea asked.

"Trying to work the Grays and the Braithwaites ended in disaster. There's no gold, Hosea. I know it seems like there will be, but we need to convince Dutch that there isn't any."

"We need a way to make money somehow."

"I know. There's a Gray kid whose sweet on a Braithwaite girl. I made some money last time helping those two pass letters back and forth. And Trelawny knew a guy who would pass good information about stagecoaches to rob. But not enough for a big score! Which is the only thing that could keep Dutch satisfied."

When he finally helped Penelope and Beau escape, she had offered him a bracelet. It certainly was valuable, which was why he insisted she keep it and only sell it to help with their new life up north. He didn't want to take it this time, either.

"Let's check out these places, then. If we both come back to Dutch and tell him that there is no money in it, then we can figure out what to do. But what we really need to do is lay low until we can head back west," Hosea decided.

"To do that, we need to keep Micah away from Dutch," Arthur said. "I will never understand what Dutch sees in him."

"I do," Hosea said. "Micah dreams big and bold, just like Dutch. And he agrees with everything Dutch says. Its a dangerous combination."

"Except Dutch cares about this gang, and Micah will sell it out to save his skin," Arthur said bitterly.

Hosea glanced over to where Micah was spouting nonsense by the fire. "He gets picked up by the Pinkertons after we go to Saint Denis?"

"After we came back from Guarma. You were… you were gone and Micah took advantage of that with Dutch. And I didn't see it until it was too late."

Back in camp, Mr. Pearson announced that the stew was prepared, featuring their fish. "Let's go back, enjoy a fine evening with good food and company! We can make our plans tomorrow."

"You sure Pearson's stew counts as good food," Arthur smirked. Hosea smacked him on the back of his head. They were laughing when they reached the fireside, and spent a happy night singing songs and laughing with their family. For just one night, Arthur could relax. This was what he was working so hard to save. And this time, he felt that he could.


	11. Chapter 11: Rhodes

**Chapter 11: Rhodes**

_Hosea, Dutch and I had our fishing trip. I guess I remembered it a little different before. Now, all I see is Dutch's desperation and obsession with people doubting him._

_We need to find some money soon, or this gang is going to fall apart. Hitting the bank in Valentine with Karen and Bill had been good money. Maybe there is something in the Rhodes bank, too. I'll have to start looking. I just need to keep Dutch away from those two families._

* * *

"Come near me, sailor… and I will slice you up!"

Arthur was fortunately close enough to grab Sadie Adler by the waist and pull her knife-wielding arm away from Mr. Pearson. Right on time, too. The fire he missed was finally in her eyes, and she was turning into the fighter he remembered so fondly. Now, he just needed to direct her at someone that wasn't the camp cook.

"What is wrong with you two?" he said.

"I ain't chopping vegetables for a living?" Sadie yelled, throwing down the knife.

He didn't tease her this time, or call her Princess, he just looked at her and said, "Why don't I take you into town? Mr. Pearson, do you need anything?"

"Sure, here's my list. And could you post this letter for me while you're there?"

"Sure."

"So, I graduated from chopping vegetables to shopping?" Sadie asked as they drove out of camp.

"Takes more than robbing and killing to run a camp, you know."

"Look, Mr. Morgan. My husband and I shared the work. I can hunt, carry a gun, I worked in the fields. I can't be confined to camp no more."

"Alright, well first we are gonna start with shopping. After that, I'll take you hunting. You show that you can handle a gun, you can run with the men if you want."

Of course, Arthur knew he didn't need a hunting trip to know Sadie could handle herself, especially if this shopping trip ended with Lemoyne Raiders. Which, of course, it did.

Sadie handled herself just as fine as before, if not a little more unrefined than he had grown used to. "Are you gonna tell Dutch?" she asked as they rode back.

"Are you kidding?" he said. "He'll tell Hosea and I'll never leave camp again if he finds out I ended up in another gunfight so soon!"

They were both chuckling about that when he stopped their wagon next to Pearson's.

"Mrs. Adler, I would ride with you again, if you will ride with me," he said.

"Only if you think you can keep up!" she replied.

There was still a lot of light left in the day, so Arthur saddled Dakota and rode out to Calliga Hall. It was time to meet Beau. One of his goals this time around was to get those two kids out of Rhodes before their lives fell apart. Especially since he didn't plan to stick around this far east long enough to help them out of town.

Beau was just as strange as he remembered, but he accepted the letter with little resistance. Beau still insisted on paying him, and at this point, Arthur was grateful for any money.

Penelope was waiting at the gazebo, and he took the reply back to Beau, only to ride desperately to the town. Penelope stood with the signs amongst the cheering women.

"They will kill her for just being at one of these rallies!" a frantic Beau protested.

"If she wants to rally, you got to let her rally!" Arthur said, but he knew what he had to do. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll stick around and make sure things don't go bad."

"Yeah, your friend can drive the wagon, Beau! It will allow us to shout all the louder!" Penelope said.

Arthur was introduced to Olive Calhoon, who asked, "Are you an old friend of the movement?"

Arthur drove the wagon towards Main Street. "I wouldn't say an old friend, Mrs. Calhoon, but you got my support."

"It's about to get exciting!" said Mrs. Calhoon, as the men of the town began to gather outside the stores.

"I believe you might be right. Just not too exciting, I hope," Arthur mumbled. But once again, Mrs. Calhoon took the jeers from the crowd in stride, and the assembly continued.

Beau was hanging around the back, but that didn't stop his cousins from noticing. Arthur intervened, pulling the young man away and on a fast ride to the old battlefield.

"I'm gonna give you some advice, Beau," Arthur said, after they caught their breath. "Leave. And leave soon. Grab Penelope and some money, and get her out of here."

"That's the problem. My family has money, but I don't!"

"Well, start saving. But if you love her-"

"Oh, I do."

"Then I would take her and get out of this town. I'll help you, if I'm still here, but I won't be around forever."

Beau nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Morgan."

They parted ways, and Arthur rode Dakota back to camp. He could only hope that Beau would take his advice.

Now to convince Dutch that there was no gold.

Beau had told him as much, saying that the families buried secrets but not treasure.

"Arthur, how did it go at the Gray's place?" Dutch was standing with Hosea next to a wagon full of moonshine. Right, Deputy Archibald had mentioned taking down some moonshiners after they arrested the Anderson boys. Dutch must not have asked Arthur along, on account of his shoulder. Or at least, that's what Arthur hoped was the reason.

More concerning was Micah, wearing the Deputy star alongside Bill. Of course that weasel had worked Arthur's injury to his own advantage.

"Well, I met an interesting young fellow who is in love with a Braithwaite girl, and I ended up in a women's suffrage rally."

"But what about gold, Arthur?" Dutch asked.

"I don't know, Dutch." He had to play this right. "The kid didn't seem to know anything about gold, and he's almost as desperate for money as we are. Wants to grab his lady and run from this place."

"But there's got to be something," Micah said.

"Sure, they're rich. Two big plantations like that have got to move a lot of money. But hidden gold? I don't think they have any, Dutch."

Hosea watched the proceedings silently. He hadn't visited the Braithwaites yet.

Micah sneered. "So, you too lazy to work that family, or too soft for that kid?"

"Shut up, Micah, I'm tryin' to find us something guaranteed so we can get out of this dump and go west like we planned!"

"Will you both cool off," Dutch interjected. "Now Arthur, if we don't rob these families, then how will we get enough money to do anything?"

Arthur had been thinking about this very thing. "Well, if there's money moving through this town, we could hit the bank."

"A bank job, really? How inspired, cowpoke," Micah said.

"It's on the edge of town, far from the sheriff, probably an easy getaway," he continued, ignoring Micah. "We could send the girls into town, see what they can find out about it."

For a second, there was some hope as Dutch looked thoughtful. But then, "Well, there's no harm in working both for now. We can send the girls in to poke around. Meanwhile, Hosea, perhaps its time to take a trip over to the Braithwaites' place."

Dutch and Micah wandered back to camp, Micah showing his total support for Dutch's outrageous schemes. It made Arthur sick, watching the rat work his way into Dutch's favor. Hosea's hand on his shoulder stopped Arthur from doing something stupid, like shooting Micah in the back.

"What should we do with this liquor?" Hosea asked gently. "I thought about trying to sell it back to the Braithwaites, but…" he trailed off, waiting for confirmation.

"It won't exactly end well," Arthur said. "You know, we should really go over my journal together at some point." He looked at the wagon again. "Let's hold onto it for now. This stuff is pretty flammable, and you never know when that would be useful."

The next morning, he and Charles rode out to find Trelawny. It had completely slipped his mind when he saw the man in Rhodes with Dutch that the bounty hunters would catch up to him. They were too late. Tracking the bounty hunters through the fields to the cabin, Arthur was determined to not end the day in a chase through the cornfields.

Well, shit, that went well, he thought as he dove through the cornstalks, cursing bounty hunters, Trelawny, and even the farmer who owned these fields. He was faster this time, shooting three of the men quickly, then searching for the fourth. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen where the guy had come from the first time around, and didn't know where to look.

The swish of the rope was his only warning before he was yanked back, pressure enveloping his neck. He tried to drag air in, but it was too late! Choking coughs and gasps sounded in the field. His fingers clawed at the rope, unable to find purchase. Where the hell was Charles? Had it taken him this long before? It reminded him of the attacks that would happen in the last few weeks of his illness, his lungs refusing to breath in until he passed out, sometimes waking up hours later, weak with the faint taste of his own blood in his mouth. His vision was going dark as the panic set in, and he couldn't focus on the person that had appeared before him.

The rope went slack, and Arthur collapsed backwards into the dirt, gasping for the air that was finally available to him. Charles was lifting him up, patting his back, but there wasn't enough air. He was sick, dying again, and there wasn't enough air. Arthur leaned over in Charles' hold, coughing violently.

When he was finished, Charles guided Arthur back until he was laying on the other man's chest. "You'll be fine," Charles murmured. Slowly, Arthur drew in one deep breath, then another, relishing each one.

"Thank you," he stammered. In the distance, more gunshots could be heard. "Shit, there's more," he said, dragging himself up. No time to panic now.

Once all the bounty hunters were dead, they returned to Trelawny, who looked just about as bad as Arthur felt at the moment.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Never finer," Trelawny replied, though the disheveled clothes and blood on his face spoke a different story.

"Who was they?"

"Bounty hunters." Arthur helped Trelawny up, the other man moved stiffly with a groan. "They weren't looking for me per se. You boys sure stirred up a lot of trouble in Blackwater."

Don't I know it, Arthur thought. The three of them rode back to camp slowly. Miss Grimshaw fussed over Trelawny and berated him for his carelessness, and Arthur was left with the unfortunate task of delivering the bad news of bounty hunters to Dutch.

"Just one big score, and we're gone, Arthur," Dutch said. But Arthur had heard it all before.

"How much money is enough, Dutch?" he asked.

"More than we have now," Dutch said, and Arthur walked away.


	12. Chapter 12: Peacemakers

Y'all had to know this one was coming...

* * *

**Chapter 12: Peacemakers**

_I've started having dreams about the last time we were in the South. I see Sean, Kieran, Hosea, and Lenny._

_We need to go back north, and soon. But Dutch is determined to play these families. I'm wondering if I should just grab John, his family, Hosea, and everyone else who wants to go, and run._

* * *

"Hey Arthur, want to go hunting?"

They'd been at Clemens Point for a few weeks now, and Arthur was frustrated. But Hosea had started the habit of inviting Arthur for fishing or hunting. The result was a more relaxed Arthur, time for planning, and a very happy Mr. Pearson.

"Yeah, we could take a few days, go up north. Want to try your hand at a bear again, old man?" Arthur teased.

"You two leaving again?" Dutch asked. "But Arthur, we are waiting on the Gray's-"

"Oh, I'm sure Marston can handle it when they call. Plus, I probably shouldn't be seen at the Gray's place so soon," said Arthur.

Even without their scheme of returning the liquor, Dutch had found a way onto the Braithwaite plantation, and the matriarch had wasted no time in using the gang for her dirty work. Last night, Arthur burned tobacco fields with Sean, a job he cursed the entire time. It might take a few days, but Sheriff Gray would ask Dutch to swing by Calliga Hall for revenge. If he didn't find a way to stop this now, it would all end with another bullet in Sean's, if not someone else's, head.

He had tried to keep Sean away from the feud between the families, but of course, the eager kid volunteered to help. That didn't mean Arthur gave up. He took Sean robbing stagecoaches, and Sadie and Lenny as well. The four of them were bringing in good money for the camp. At least he warned Sean not go on jobs with Micah. He also went fishing a lot with Kieran, trying to help the prior O'Driscoll feel included in the gang. Plus, he now knew of a store to buy special lake lures, and they managed to bring in the giant Bluegill. Kieran earned a little respect, and they all ate well that night.

Still, Arthur had done his best to stay away from the mess that was playing both families. He hadn't been seen on the Braithwaite property at all, having been relayed orders by Dutch and Bill. Naturally, the Gray's would want revenge, prompting the order to steal the _five thousand dollar_ horses.

Thus, a hunting trip was in order.

"Didn't know you was a coward now, Morgan!"

Micah was another reason for Arthur to be out of camp so much, though that in itself was a double edged sword. All Dutch could think about was this Confederate gold, and Micah always whispered about the riches in his ear.

"I'm being practical, Micah. If someone finds out we are playing both sides, this could end real bad."

"Let's go, Arthur," said Hosea, leading Silver Dollar and Dakota over. "We'll be back in a few days, no trouble now."

They rode out of camp and took the road north, Arthur in the lead. Hosea always let Arthur decide where they went. Normally, Arthur led them to a location where he met an interesting person. They helped Albert Mason again, this time keeping him from being eaten by a crocodile. Arthur chased down a wagon for a traveling doctor. He helped strangers who were lost get home.

Hosea could see what Arthur had meant, that he was happiest while helping people. Most people were grateful, handing Arthur the few dollars they had saved up as thanks. And every time, Arthur looked a little guilty taking it, but usually accepted. In one of their planning trips, they had talked about how much money they would need to buy land out west.

"You sure we should go this close to Valentine?" Hosea asked, once he realized where they were headed.

"Gotta keep our favorite wildlife photographer from falling off a cliff," he laughed.

The town was on high alert after Arthur, Lenny, Bill, and Karen robbed their bank of several thousand dollars, though the gang got a little less than they did last time. Arthur managed to slip about three thousand dollars into his own satchel while the other members were occupied out front. He felt bad shorting the others, but he needed that money in case they had to escape, and fast.

Arthur didn't let Albert Mason anywhere near the edge this time, grabbing the man's arm and leading him towards more stable rock. The blush that appeared on Albert's cheeks did not escape his notice, nor did the amused look on Hosea's face. When they parted ways once again, Albert giving up on the eagles for the moment, Arthur said, "Hey, if you ever need me for anything, you can write me under the name Tacitus Kilgore. And, don't ask about the name."

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I plan to try to get these in a gallery soon, actually, so I will write when I have a location."

Arthur waved goodbye, shaking his head at Hosea. "Shut up, old man."

"You think he will write?"

"I know he gets that gallery spot he's looking for."

"Was that all you wanted to do?"

"No, I want to go up the O'Creagh's Run."

"You were serious about another bear?"

"Naw, there's a man named Hamish Sinclair who lives there. He was a good friend to me, and I want to introduce myself."

He knew he chose the right time to stop by, because Buell was hitched outside. Arthur gave the horse a few pats, hoping that this time he wouldn't have to take the horse for Hamish. He wondered what would have happened to Buell after he died, having left the horse at the stables before the final train job. But for now, the man himself was out on his boat, cursing and trying to catch the Tyrant. He caught Arthur's eye, so Arthur waved. Hamish rowed over.

"You folks want to join me for a little fishing?" Hamish was one of the nicest people Arthur knew, trusting two strangers immediately.

"Sure!"

"Well, get in. I'm trying to catch the Tyrant, a bastard Pike that's taken over this lake."

Hosea listened as Hamish told the story of how he lost his leg, how he came here and named his horse after his old general. They managed to hook the Tyrant after a bit of a struggle and Hamish ending up in the water.

"If you ever want to fish again or go hunting, stop on by. Thank you Arthur, Hosea."

"I just might take you up on that," Arthur said to Hamish.

On the ride back south, Arthur and Hosea caught some deer with quality pelts, selling a few in at the trapper's stand and keeping the best for Mr. Pearson's crafting.

When they arrived back in camp in the early morning, Dutch was arguing with Molly. Again. It was happening a lot, and Arthur had tried to talk with her.

John was sitting at a table, looking annoyed, and Arthur joined him. "What happened?"

"Those five thousand dollar horses? Barely got seven hundred for them!"

"Well, you can't win them all."

"The Gray's are using us, the Braithwaites, too. And I don't see gold at the end of this, Arthur."

"I know."

"You think Dutch is angry with me? About the horses?"

"It wasn't your fault, Marston. If Dutch blames you for it, then he's a fool."

That got a small laugh out of John. Soon, John was walking over to Abigail and Jack. Arthur smiled as he watched John grab some sticks and play sword fighting with his son. One benefit of being shot by Pinkerton agents, if he could call anything from that a benefit, was John's relationship with his son. Seeing Jack riding back alone, blood on his coat, had affected John in the same way as Jack's kidnapping. He was starting to step up as a father.

"Hey Arthur, want to head up to the river for some fishing?"

"Sure, Javier."

Another attempt at Arthur's to change this place was his relationship with Javier. Seeing Javier stand across from him, gun pointed in his direction at Beaver Hollow, had stung, and at first Arthur wasn't sure he could look at Javier the same way. But as he got to know the man better, he realized just how loyal he was to Dutch. Like most of them, Dutch had found Javier at his lowest moment and took him under his wing. While fishing, Arthur would talk about some of his disagreements with Dutch, just to see how Javier would react. After the disaster of rescuing Micah from the Strawberry jail, there were thin cracks in Javier's previously solid devotion to Dutch.

"What do you think about all this, Javier?" he asked once they were situated at the river.

"I'm not sure. I trust Dutch, but…"

"I know what you mean. I can't see this plan of his ending well."

"I don't trust Micah," Javier said, and the words brought hope to Arthur that he might get through to Javier finally.

"Me neither. I don't like the way he's always talking in Dutch's ear."

He and Javier didn't talk much for the rest of the trip, but he was pleased with the progress. Javier would never be a problem for the gang. Arthur just wanted him to think for himself.

But when they rode back into camp, the peace of the morning was shattered.

"ARTHUR!" Hosea was running over as soon as he spotted Dakota walking through the trees. "It's Dutch! He went to a meeting with Colm O'Driscoll!"

"What?" Arthur was off Dakota in a flash. "When did this happen?"

"About an hour ago. Dutch wouldn't listen to me! I told him again and again that it was a trap but Micah insisted that they had to try."

Arthur scanned the gathering crowd, trying to see who was missing. "Who went with him, Hosea? Who!"

"John."

Arthur felt his heart jump in his chest, the color draining from his face. "Shit, we got to go after them!" He prayed that the meeting spot was still in the same place as he jumped back on Dakota. "I swear, if Colm hurts John at all!"

Hosea was grabbing Silver Dollar when he heard, "You boys going after Colm?"

Sadie Adler was there, a fire in her eyes, her horse Bob trailing behind her.

"We're going to try to stop that meeting."

"Let me come with you! I have some unfinished business with O'Driscoll."

"We don't have time for this right now," Hosea said, but Arthur look at her carefully, wondering if now was the right time.

"First priority of this is to make sure John and Dutch make it out of that meeting in one piece. You want revenge? It's going to have to wait until after."

"Fine," she said, already mounting Bob.

"Alright, let's go," Arthur said, urging Dakota onto the trail.

"How do you know where you are going?" Sadie asked as they galloped up the road.

"Don't worry about it," Arthur said. Later, he could come up with a lie, but not now. Not with the pit in his stomach growing with every second Marston was in danger.

Up ahead, a small white horse and a larger black one were trotting down the road. The Count and Baylock, with Old Boy nowhere to be seen.

_No_.

"DUTCH!" he called out, and the older man slowed his horse to a stop. As soon as he was close enough, he was going to ask about John, but before he could, Micah said, "Where were you, cowpoke? We was gonna take you to our little peace talk, but you were no where to be found!"

"Where's Marston?" Arthur demanded.

"Taking the long way home, I bet," Micah said.

"Shut up, Micah, I'm asking Dutch. Where is he?"

"I'm sure he's on the way. He was our lookout, since you were conveniently missing." The words are laden with sarcasm. "Of course, now you show up with Hosea and Mrs. Adler, of all people."

"You went to meet with Colm O'Driscoll and you aren't the least bit worried that John is missing!"

Micah was the one to answer that. "Oh, Marston can handle himself." And Arthur could see it now.

In the first few days after returning to camp, bruised and beaten with an infected bullet wound, Arthur hadn't had the energy to wonder what had happened to Dutch after he went missing. He was simply relieved that no one had fallen into Colm's trap. But later, especially when Dutch left John to rot in jail, he started to wonder why. Now it was painfully clear just how easy it was for Micah to whisper assurances in Dutch's ear. Dutch had no idea anything could be wrong!

So, he looked Dutch in the eye and said, "I'm going to look for him. Come with us or go back to camp, I don't care." He directed his next comment to Micah. "If Colm hurt him at all, I'm coming for you." Before Dutch or Micah could respond, he urged Dakota forward.

The field was empty when they arrived, and Arthur led them up the hill with a quick, "this is the best vantage point for a lookout." At the top, he slid off Dakota, searching desperately for any sign of John.

"MARSTON!" he shouted, hearing Hosea do the same. He approached the ledge, scaring a vulture away from an animal corpse. This was where he had set up, he could only hope John had done the same.

And there! The dirt was padded down with boot prints. But then he saw a few red drops on the ground.

"Hosea!"

The man rushed over, taking in what Arthur was showing him.

"Is that?"

"Yeah, blood. They took him, Hosea! They took John!"


	13. Chapter 13: Colm O'Driscoll

**C****hapter 13: Colm O'Driscoll**

"You sure we are going the right way?" Sadie Adler yelled from the back.

They had been tracking the O'Driscolls for hours, and Arthur hoped they were gaining some ground. He kept the pace quick, seeing as tracking people was rather easy when he had a good idea of where they were headed. In his travels across West Elizabeth after he had been taken by Colm, Arthur had come across the abandoned, run down cabin with a cellar that still had stains of his blood. Glances at the ground confirmed that they were headed in the same direction now.

"I'm sure," Arthur said. They hadn't crossed the river yet. He vaguely remembered waking sprawled cross the back of a horse, the reflection from the water piercing his eyes.

Hosea rode up next to Arthur. "We'll find him, son," he said. But his voice shook, the reassurances falling empty.

This was taking too long. And on top of that, the memory of Dutch riding off was too fresh in Arthur's mind. Once upon a time, it was Arthur who had been left in the clutches of the O'Driscolls, with Dutch none the wiser.

Smoke rose through the trees in the distance. Arthur started to hope. They couldn't have been that far behind!

"Hold up," he said. Peering through the trees. A small group of people sat around a fire. Through binoculars, Arthur could see the dark coats, but he couldn't be sure from that far away. "Let's leave the horses, take a closer look."

They crawled to the edge of the hill, peering down at the camp. It was the O'Driscolls, alright. They stood around the campfire, and another man stood there as well. His greasy gray hair was under a black hat, the clothes he wore were expensive but worn and crumpled.

"Shit, Colm is here."

"Good," Sadie Adler said, pulling out her gun, Arthur lowering it with his hand.

"What did I say was the priority here?"

On the ground was another man. Arthur couldn't see well from his position, but he was sure he was covered in bruises. John.

"Hosea, look!"

"Is that John?"

"It has to be!"

"Alright, Arthur," Hosea said. "What's the plan?"

Besides intercepting the O'Driscolls before they got John to West Elizabeth, Arthur didn't really have a plan. His plan for these peace talks had been to either convince Dutch to not go through with it, which seemed unlikely, or to take out the men sent to kidnap him. He never expected Dutch to go to the meeting without him, or being out of camp when it happened.

"Colm might leave, then there won't be as many of them guarding John. We can take them out quick-"

"Wait, where's Mrs. Adler?"

Arthur looked around frantically, before spotting Sadie sneaking down towards the camp.

"Shit, she's going after Colm!" Right, Sadie wasn't as well-practiced as he remembered. Plus, given how she had reacted at Colm O'Driscoll's hanging, well, he should have seen this coming.

"Get ready," Arthur said, pulling out his own revolver.

"COLM! YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!"

And Sadie was ducking around a rock, firing round after round into the O'Driscoll boys. Arthur moved up as well, standing and running to a thick tree for cover, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Hosea do the same. One look, he was aiming at the enemy. The second look, he noticed with horror that John wasn't laying on the ground anymore!

"Moving up, cover me!" he shouted at Hosea, and didn't wait for a reply. He heard a scream from Sadie, and he yelled her name but he didn't have time to look. John was no longer on the ground, he couldn't see Colm anymore!

He rounded a wagon, and stopped cold, his stomach dropping.

"Don't move, Morgan!"

Colm O'Driscoll held John Marston up by the hair, a gun pressed into his cheek. John himself was blinking slowly, eyes unfocused and wandering. But then his eyes found Arthur and they widened, and he struggled weakly against the hand holding him.

Arthur held his hands up, gun pointed at the sky. "Drop it!" Colm said, and Arthur saw no choice but to comply, throwing his revolver in few paces in front of him.

"Well, well, Arthur Morgan. Dutch's most loyal gun."

"Let him go, Colm." Arthur risked a glance to John, who was staring frantically at Arthur. He let out a small sigh at seeing that while John was beaten and bruised, he hadn't been shot.

"You know, I was surprised my boys didn't find you acting as lookout on that ridge. Are you starting to lose faith in Dutch's famous charisma? You know, if you want to make some real money, you could join me."

"It ain't about the money, Colm."

"Still, here you are, ruining my plans once again. I was expecting Dutch to ride in, and I was going to get all of you. Is he here?"

Arthur stayed silent, but it didn't help. "So, he didn't show? Pity, I had this whole trap planned just for him."

"Colm! Let John go!"

"I wonder what Dutch would do if I killed you both, right now! Might be worth it, to break Dutch van der Linde by killing his two sons." Colm's grip on John tightened, bringing the gun up to directly under John's eye. John strained to keep it in his vision.

Arthur swallowed. There was nothing he could do to stop Colm from shooting him or John in this moment. He hoped Hosea was close, though he could still here shots being fired on the other side of the wagon. "What do you want, Colm?"

"Oh, I haven't decided yet," Colm sneered. "But you killed my boys at Six Point Cabin, and you're going to die for that!"

What would happen if he died now? Since Arthur had woken up by some miracle in the Grizzlies, he hadn't considered that question much. Would he be forced to relive all this again? Wake up in the snow and storm? Or was this his only chance, and it would end as soon as Colm's bullet entered his skull? No more second chances. Perhaps it would be alright. Hosea knew about his journal, maybe Hosea could fix his mistakes and save the gang.

"You want to kill me, Colm?" he said, not entirely sure if he was making the right move. "Go ahead and try. But you gotta let John go."

"And why would I do that?" Colm laughed, but stopped when he saw the smile form on Arthur's face.

"Do you want to know how you die, Colm?"

Arthur had that one last card to play for time; knowledge of Colm O'Driscoll's future. Did he expect Colm to listen? No. Did he really, really want to watch Colm swing again. Yes!

Colm's grip on his revolver tightened, and Arthur smirked. "One of your women will talk, and get you arrested."

"What are you talking about?" Colm's face fell. Poor John looked even more confused, his eyes darting between the two.

"I'll always remember that day fondly," Arthur said. "You hanging in Saint Denis. The look on your face when you realized Dutch had ruined your escape plan?" He trailed off, the result reached. Colm was livid, hands shaking in anger, the sneer returning. Where were Hosea and Sadie?

"I don't know what the hell you are talking about, but you are going to die, Morgan!" Colm raised his gun to aim directly at Arthur. Arthur met John's eyes, possibly the last sight he would ever see, trying to convey in a look that he would be alright, everything would be alright.

BANG!

Colm stumbled, the gun lowering, and Arthur was moving again. He dove for his own gun in the grass, scrambling towards Marston as quick as he could. Colm released his grip on John even as Arthur fired his own round into Colm's chest.

He didn't have to wonder at what happened for long.

Sadie Adler limped over, unloading bullet after bullet into Colm O'Driscoll. Even after the man fell and stopped moving, she continued, pulling the trigger long after the empty clicks sounded when all the bullets had left their chambers.

"That's for my husband," she said.

Arthur grabbed John, pulling his brother up to his chest. John buried his head into the crook of Arthur's neck, breathing in short, panicked gasps, Arthur repeating, "It's alright, I've got you, you're OK." And then there was Hosea placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder, leaning over John to get a look at any possible injuries.

"Is he OK?" Arthur asked.

"I think so, I don't see anything life threatening," Hosea said, but then he looked up at Sadie. The woman was sinking to the ground even as Arthur watched, her clothes were soaked in blood. He had no idea if any of it was hers.

"Here, take John," he said, meeting Hosea's eye. He transfered his hold on John to Hosea, not missing the quiet whimper. John's eyes were closed, his pale face scrunched up against the pain Arthur had no doubt John was feeling. The O'Driscolls were not known for their hospitality.

Sadie was crying when he approached her, carefully placing his hands on her shoulders and waiting. And then…

"He was a good man, my Jakey," she sobbed. "I miss him every day, every moment."

"I know," Arthur said. He let her lean back against him.

"I think I'm turning into a monster, Arthur. But my memories of him? They still pure."

The amount of blood on her clothes concerned him. "You hurt, Sadie?"

Her hands covered her stomach, and Arthur carefully peeled them away, only to reveal a stab wound.

"Jesus, Sadie!"

She leaned further back into him, and Arthur turned back to Hosea. "Sadie's hurt, we need to get her to a doctor."

"We're close to Valentine," said Hosea. He helped pull John up to standing, though John leaned heavily on Hosea, eyes unfocused.

"No, not Valentine," Arthur said. "The doctor there is in with the O'Driscolls. Long story."

"We're too far from Rhodes."

"I know," he sighed. "Strawberry. We could go to Strawberry. I know it's the opposite direction than we need, but it might be safer."

Nodding, Hosea led John to his horse. Fortunately, Old Boy was hitched along with the O'Driscoll horses, but Hosea helped John to his own horse. Arthur picked Sadie off the ground, through she insisted on limping over herself. He lifted her on the back of Dakota.

Arthur looked to the body on the ground. "What about Colm? We might be able to collect a bounty on him."

"Should we risk it, this close to Blackwater?" asked Hosea. "It could bring Pinktertons to town."

But the money from such a bounty was too good to pass up. "How about this? I'll take Colm to the sheriff after we get to the doctor. The sheriff doesn't know me yet, and if it brings Pinkertons to town I'll help sneak y'all out. But we will get Sadie to the doctor, first."

So, they loaded Colm O'Driscoll's body on the back of Old Boy, and rode to Strawberry. Sadie cursed and grumbled the entire way to the doctor, and John passed out from exhaustion before they arrived, but Hosea was confident that they would both recover. After, he led Old Boy down the street to the sheriff.

"Good lord!" the sheriff said when Arthur entered with the body.

"I brought you Colm O'Driscoll," Arthur said. "He's dead, but it's him."

After he dropped the body on the floor and the sheriff examined it, the sheriff was baffled. "How did you ever manage to kill him?"

"Just got lucky, I suppose."

"Well, it's definitely him. Colm O'Driscoll! He's wanted in at least three states that I know of!" The sheriff wandered over to the drawers. "What's your name, sir?"

"Arthur Callahan."

"I don't even have enough money here for the bounty for West Elizabeth! But here, you can take this for now." He slid about five hundred dollars across the table. "I'll need to call in people from Blackwater to bring the rest."

That's exactly what Arthur had been afraid of. "Well, I'm a bit of a wanderer. And I have a family to get back to."

"I understand," said the sheriff. "Is there a place we could send the rest of the money?"

"Yeah, actually." He didn't want to send the money to Tacitus Kilgore, especially if they made the connection that Arthur Morgan was the one claiming the bounty.

"How about this? Send the money to Hamish Sinclair. He lives in a cabin on the O'Creagh's Run. I usually stop by there once a month, and I trust him to take care of it. Just let him know the money is for Arthur. I'll write to him as well."

"Well, if you say so," the sheriff said. Arthur dismissed himself, and sighed once he was outside. Then he walked down the street to check on John and Sadie.


	14. Chapter 14: The Fight

Points if you get the Very Potter Musical reference. Can you believe that it is over 10 years old like what the heck!

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Fight**

_Dear Hamish,_

_Thank you again for taking Hosea and me fishing. I certainly am going to take you up on your offer of hunting some time._

_I'm writing you from Strawberry with a request. In my travels, I came across an outlaw that had quite a price on his head. We got into a fight and I killed him, and I got to collect the bounty. Unfortunately, the sheriff didn't have enough money to cover the bounty. I have to be moving on from Strawberry, so I told the sheriff that I trust you to take care of until I can make it up to your cabin._

_The money will be for Arthur Callahan. Feel free to take some money if you should need it. And don't be too concerned if no one shows up. I have my own troubles with the law in certain areas, and they might not be too keen to pay a bounty to someone who owes one, if you get my meaning._

_Thank you,_

_Arthur Morgan_

He addressed the first letter to O'Creagh's Run, then started writing the second.

_Dear Mary-Beth,_

_I know Sadie, Hosea, and I left in a rush, but I wanted you to pass on to Abigail that we have found John and he is fine. We plan to head back to camp soon, but hopefully this letter will reach you first and put your minds at ease._

_Arthur_

He scribbled the name Tacitus Kilgore and Rhodes on the second envelope before handing them to the clerk. It would probably take a while for his letter to reach Hamish, but if the mail picked up in time to meet a train, Abigail would receive news about John before they returned.

Marston was recovering well, well enough to ask Arthur about the now inaccurate future of Colm O'Driscoll being hanged. Arthur tried to brush it off as talking for time, but he could tell that John did not believe a word of it.

The doctor seemed reluctant about letting Sadie leave so soon, but the glare the woman sent in his direction held his tongue. Arthur supported her with an arm around her waist, but she still walked her way to the horses, John moving stiffly behind her. Hosea frowned. Arthur knew he was uncomfortable with moving so soon, too. But it was only a matter of time before Pinkertons showed in Strawberry to confirm the death of Colm O'Driscoll, and both Hosea and Arthur knew they had to be long gone by then.

Sadie tried to move to Bob, but Arthur steered her to Dakota. "Are you kidding me?" she complained.

"You're not riding by yourself."

"Marston gets to ride by himself!"

"Marston has a bump on the head. You were stabbed. End of discussion."

She grumbled but relented. It was a long ride back to Rhodes. Arthur turned to Hosea.

"I'm glad to be getting out of this town."

"Really? I think Big Valley is beautiful. Great land, I wouldn't mind living there."

"No, Big Valley is good. But Strawberry? This tourist town for rich folk back East? It just makes me worried, Hosea."

At that moment, one of the rich tourists in an impractical suit wandered past. "Worried about what? Him?" Hosea chuckled.

"No, people like that make our job easier. No, it's just," Arthur paused, trying to get the words right in his head. "It's just the idea that the West is going to be one big tourist land one day. All that nice, virgin land we always dream about? That it will just become this thing for rich folk to stare at, to run around and pretend to be a cowboy, and then go back to their nice, cushy lives. And people like us? There won't be any room in the world for us no more."

Hosea said nothing, just kept a melancholy smile on his face.

Arthur turned to mount up in front of Sadie. "We should get going."

The ride back was slow, and they stopped for the night on the shores of Flat Iron Lake. They were actually near Jeremy Gill's lakeside house, which Arthur pointed out to Hosea with a laugh. He shot a few rabbits for dinner, and they all enjoyed a peaceful night for once. Hosea entertained Sadie with stories of Arthur and John growing up, embarrassing the two men. But he eventually had to stop when he had Sadie in such stitches that she pulled on her injured side too much.

Sadie drifted into sleep, John soon after, which left just Arthur and Hosea next to the fire.

"You OK?"

"Things are going to be so different now," Arthur said.

"I know."

"I might punch Dutch in the face when we get back to camp."

"Arthur-"

"He believed Micah! Over us! We were there telling him that something was wrong and he just rode off back to camp! When it was me-" he cut off, quickly checking to make sure both John and Sadie were asleep.

"When it was me," he whispered, "I was just so glad to get away from Colm that I never asked Dutch what he was doing while I was gone."

Hosea leaned forward, head in his hands. "Before then, I couldn't really see the Dutch you warned me about. But now I'm afraid that he might already be lost."

"Should we leave? I hate to ask the gang to choose between Dutch and me, but I don't want to leave them behind. John, Abigail, and Jack, I want them to be safe. I'm sure they would come with us, but Sean? The Girls?"

"We will think about it later. Let's talk to Dutch, try to get him to see the error in his ways."

"Thank you." The fire flickered, starting to die out. "Go to bed, old man. I'll keep watch."

Pink and orange streaks covered the sky when Arthur shook the others awake. A few hours ride, and they would be back in camp, and Arthur would have to get ready for the next challenge. Mainly, keeping Sean or anybody else from being killed in the Gray-Braithwaite fiasco.

They trotted through the trees at at Clemens Point, Charles standing guard nearby. "Glad you are back!" he called to the four of them.

Abigail ran up to them. "I'm so glad you are alright!" she said to John, before turning to Arthur. "Mary-Beth told me about your letter. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Abigail." He helped Sadie down, the woman pushing him off and stumbling to her tent by herself. But she was unable to escape the sight of Miss Grimshaw.

"Mrs. Adler! What did those boys get you into?"

"I'm fine!"

"Don't let her fool you, Miss Grimshaw. She was stabbed in the side, but she'll be alright."

"Stabbed?" Abigail shouted, drawing some attention from the rest of the camp. "I thought you said everything was fine! What happened?"

"She will be fine, Abigail," Arthur said. "John too, he got hit in the head a little." Abigail began to fuss over John, when he heard it.

"ARTHUR!" Dutch strode over quickly, the other camp members carefully moving out of the way. "Where have you four been? And why is Mrs. Adler injured?"

Hosea stepped forward, a hand on a furious Arthur's chest. "Dutch, let's talk in private."

"No, you three go looking for John and you disappear for days! Tell me where you were, now!"

Arthur was done. "Fuck you, Dutch."

The camp took a collective step back, Dutch's face livid. "Excuse me?" he growled.

"If you had given enough of a shit to look for John when he went missing, you would know exactly what we've been through. But no, you listened to Micah and left."

Arthur glanced at Micah in the corner, daring him to make a sound. But this time it seemed that Micah was being smart and shutting up.

"Colm O'Driscoll is dead!" Arthur announced. "Sadie managed to get the drop on him while we were rescuing John from their camp. I appreciate it, by the way, considering Colm was seconds from killing me. And probably John right after."

"John," Dutch said, looking past Arthur to the other man. "John, I didn't know." Dutch took a few steps forward, but Arthur moved to stand between them. "If I had known-"

John apprehensively asked, "Were you even worried?"

"Of course, son" Dutch held his hands in front of him, almost seeming like he was pleading.

"But not enough to look for me? You just left me?" John's anger was rapidly leaking out. When Arthur and Hosea explained that Dutch had gone back to camp, since John had overheard Colm's plan and was frightened of Dutch falling into the trap, he had been both relieved and hurt. Now, the built up tension was being released.

Hosea, ever the mediator, tried with, "You should have listened to our concerns at the very least."

But Dutch was beyond reason already. "I don't need doubt from you, Hosea." Which was the last word Arthur could handle hearing. He surged forward, grabbed Dutch by the jacket and backing him into a wagon.

"You keep saying that, keep worrying that people are doubting you, and you are too full of yourself to ever admit that you are wrong!"

"Hey, get your hands off the boss!"

"Micah, I told you I would kill you. You want me to make good on that now?" Micah backed off, though Charles and Sean getting in the way might have had something to do with that.

"Arthur, I'm sure you are just angry about Colm-"

"Oh no, Dutch. I got to see Colm die, I'm not angry at dead men. I'm angry at you! You claim to love this gang like family but lately when you talk its just that snake's voice that comes out. Don't think I haven't noticed that you agree with everything he whispers in your ear. And look at where we are!"

"Arthur, I-"

"Let me guess, Dutch. You've got a plan! Well, your plans have been shit lately, and they are only getting worse. Those two families? There ain't gold at the end of it. We have Leviticus Cornwall on our tail because YOU robbed a train that Hosea and I told you not to. We are being chased by Pinkertons because MICAH got you all excited for that boat, even when Hosea and I had something in the works! No, Dutch. I don't believe in your plans no more!"

That shut Dutch up. The entire camp was silent, watching Arthur unload all his frustration, anger, and anxiety in one moment. The crickets stopped chirping, the flies stopped buzzing, even nature held its breath as Arthur gathered his next words.

"The only reason that I'm still here is because I care about this gang. I love them all like family. Except for you, Micah, I can't fucking stand you. But the rest of them? I will do anything to protect them, Dutch. So you start listening to someone that isn't Micah for a change, because if he or you put any of them in danger again? I'll protect them from you."

Dutch swallowed and nodded. Arthur sighed, and released his hold on Dutch's jacket. He returned to John and Abigail, and slowly the rest of the gang went back to their day in camp. Only Micah and Bill stood with Dutch, but other than that, he was alone in the middle of camp.


	15. Chapter 15: Grays and Braithwaites

So I have another idea for an RDR2 AU, so its a good thing I'm almost finished writing this one! I'll keep thinking on the idea and see if I can make it into a full story.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Grays and Braithwaites**

_Colm O'Driscoll is dead. Sadie Adler killed him. I hope it brings her some peace. But there's no peace in camp. I told Dutch what I've been thinking for months now, and I don't think anything will be the same again._

* * *

The sounds of Dutch and Molly O'Shea arguing made its way through the camp, and everyone made awkward glances towards their tent as they went about their business.

From what Arthur could tell, Dutch was spitting about faith and loyalty, but Miss O'Shea was giving as good as she got.

The backlash from Arthur's outburst was a fractured camp, one that horribly reminded him of Beaver Hollow. Since Hosea was barely talking to Dutch, Micah took up the role of second in command and whispered in Dutch's ear, continuing to encourage the ideas of gold and escaping the law. And because of that, Dutch was transforming from the determined leader to the manipulative bastard, a version of himself that had once shot at Arthur and John thinking they were rats.

"Hosea has lost his spine," he heard Dutch say to Micah. "You are the only one whose been loyal."

Sadly, Arthur realized that soon it was time to go. He just needed to determine who would go with him, and how.

Hosea would go with him. The older man was just as disturbed by Dutch's behavior and maybe wanted to help, but if it came down between him or Dutch, he hoped Hosea would choose to leave. John and his family, as well. The betrayal of Dutch not looking for him after he was captured was still very fresh, and even he had confessed to Arthur, while they listened to Dutch's passive aggressive grumblings about loyalty, that he just didn't know Dutch anymore.

As for the rest, well, Arthur didn't expect them to be one giant family anymore, as much as he wanted it to be the case. But the world was changing, the country growing smaller by the day, and as much as he dreamed of all of them owning a piece of land together, it just didn't seem like the future they were headed towards. Not with the price on Arthur's head, and a lot of the others as well.

Being in camp was stifling, so Arthur went a little outside to take care of Dakota. He almost ran straight into Kieran.

"Oh, Mr. Morgan," he said. Arthur sincerely hoped that, with Colm dead, Kieran would survive. But he couldn't be sure yet.

"Hey Kieran, how are the horses?"

"Pretty well, but our supplies for them are running low. I've been meaning to go looking for some burdock root."

"Actually, about that," Arthur said carefully. "Maybe don't leave camp by yourself just yet. Colm may be dead, but the other gang members? If they find any of us, especially you, well, I'm just worried they might try to take revenge."

"Oh," said Kieran, growing a little pale.

"Look, I don't want to worry you, just for my sake when you leave camp, take me or Hosea or anyone you trust really."

"I don't really trust a lot of you just yet," Kieran admitted. "A lot of them still call me O'Driscoll."

"I know, I know. I'll try talking to them."

Kieran might go with him. He noticed that Mary-Beth seemed sweet on the boy, and maybe they could both be happy in a life together.

Dakota nudged his arm, looking for peppermints, which he obliged. Kieran laughed. "She has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she. Or hoof, I suppose."

"She's a good girl. How's Branwen doing?"

"Just fine!"

He was glad that his relationship with Kieran was better this time around. Having Arthur's friendship and protection granted Kieran an easier time with the rest of the gang, and they were slowly opening up to the prior-O'Driscoll. Kieran knew two things: horses and fishing. The former was a good conversation for Arthur, and the latter actually opened up a tentative friendship with Javier, though that was still in the beginning stages.

Another positive, which he discovered not long after returning with John, was that Beau had taken Arthur's advice, saved up a little money (though Arthur did help a little in that regard) and took Penelope out of Rhodes. The two families had kept the incident hushed up, and Arthur was sure they were furious, but he was glad those two got out of the area before the inevitable disaster occurred.

Back in camp, the loud voices of Bill and Micah could be heard, talking about a security job for the Grays. Arthur couldn't suppress the shudder as they looked for volunteers, and started to walk over. But Sean didn't step up this time. As it turned out, between Arthur's advice to stay clear of Micah and the recent split in loyalties, Sean barely acknowledged Micah. "I helped burn their farm, now you want me to work for them?" he asked.

"Well, if Sean is going to be a coward," Micah began, and Arthur had to grab Sean by the arm to stop him from beating Micah into the ground, "then anyone else want in on this? Morgan? You want to get off your ass and bring in some money for this family you claim to love so much?"

"I ain't working with you, Micah. And I suggest that no one else do either."

"What's your problem with me, Morgan?"

"Well, where do I start? The fact that every job you suggest ends in a shootout? That you got Dutch to leave John after he was captured, carrying out one of your plans?"

"You're just afraid of a little action. Anyone else want in on this?"

Arthur whirled his head around to the crowd, scared that someone else would fill the vacant spot and be killed. But no one moved. Bill, furious, yelled, "Fine! More of a cut for us, I suppose!"

"Bill, wait!" Arthur shouted after them.

"Oh, you want in now, don't yah?"

"No, Bill, don't do this. This feud between the families can only end badly." Bill may be too blind to realize where Dutch was leading the gang, but he didn't deserve to die in this mess.

"Shut up, Morgan. Some of us are still loyal." Bill turned and left.

It was very possible that this would be the last time he saw either Bill or Micah. But Arthur refused to think on it. Today was also the day that little Jack was kidnapped and given to Angelo Bronte.

"Who is on watch today?" Arthur asked the remaining group.

"Me and Kieran," said Lenny.

"I'm worried, Lenny. This plan Dutch has is insane, and I'm afraid for the people here. I'm going on watch, too. Charles? Will you join us?"

"Of course, Arthur."

"Good. I'll go with Kieran, Charles you go with Lenny."

He walked through the woods, eyes peeled for the Braithwaite sons. The sun was slowly setting in the west, and he wondered what had become of Bill and Micah in town. Surely, the ambush was over, if it was to happen at all!

When the gunshot echoed in the woods, Arthur's blood turned cold. He ran, pushing past the branches and bushes. He almost missed it, but out of the corner of his eye he saw it.

_No_.

"No no no no no, Lenny, please no!"

The young man was gasping for air, his hands stained red as he desperately pressed them into his stomach. Arthur added his own hands on top of Lenny's. He groaned, but locked his eyes onto Arthur.

"Jack, they took Jack."

"You're going to be alright Lenny, stay awake for me, alright?"

"The Braithwaites, I couldn't-" he was cut off by a weak cough. Arthur pressed harder onto the wound.

"You did good, Lenny, we'll get Jack back. Just stay with me."

Charles was running over, as was Kieran, but Arthur turned towards the camp. "HELP! WE NEED SOME HELP!" When he turned back to Lenny, his eyes were falling shut. "No, don't do this to me, kid."

This wasn't supposed to happen. Lenny wasn't even supposed to be in danger! Sean was the one Arthur had been trying to save, and little Jack, but now Lenny was the one paying the price for his sorry attempts. He slid his arm under Lenny's shoulders, lightly shaking him to try to keep him conscious. But it was no use. Lenny's eyes stayed shut, his body limp.

"Arthur, we need to get him back to camp," Charles said. He nodded, then moved his other arm under Lenny's knees and lifted. They rushed back to camp, met midway by people who had heard the noise from the woods.

And Dutch was there, Dutch's face pale with terror. "Oh god, no, son!"

But Arthur didn't spare Dutch even a glance, carrying Lenny to his tent and meeting Reverend Swanson, who was thankfully sober. He laid the younger man on the cot and continued to press into Lenny's stomach until a gentle hand fell onto his shoulder. Hosea guided Arthur out of the tent, but even still Arthur looked over his shoulder to make sure Lenny was still breathing. His chest still rose and fell in shallow gasps.

Hosea pushed Arthur into a chair. "Arthur," he started, but didn't know what else to say.

"Not Lenny, please not Lenny." He choked over the words. There wasn't much comfort that Hosea could offer, and he went back into the tent to help.

"Arthur! What happened?" Dutch demanded.

"The Braithwaites came. Lenny said he saw them take Jack. He must have tried to stop them."

"No, not Jack, too! Goddammit!"

Abigail ran over. "Jack's gone! Did they take my son?"

Arthur looked up at her, feeling hopeless. "Abigail, I'm sorry. It was the Braithwaites."

"We'll get him back, Abigail. I promise you. We need to get Micah and Bill, and then we will ride over to the Braithwaite estate and get him back!"

But Bill and Micah were probably dead, and Jack was being given to Angelo Bronte. Could he possibly intercept them before the exchange occurred? Keep Dutch from ever meeting the man? In the end, he couldn't bring himself to get up and leave. Jack was fine, in fact he had seemed to view the entire experience as a weird vacation. Lenny was more important.

"Dutch!" came a call from the tree line, and Micah was riding back. Alone. With blood covered clothes. "It was an ambush. They killed Bill!"

"Goddammit, NO!"

Micah looked around the solemn camp before his eyes landed on Arthur, who was staring at nothing. "Jesus, cowpoke, what happened to you?"

For the first time, Micah sounded genuinely alarmed, and it caused Arthur to take in his bloodstained hands and clothes. All Lenny's blood, covering his shirt and vest and his pants as well. Fortunately, Dutch answered for him.

"The Braithwaites came and took little Jack. They shot Lenny when he tried to stop them. Micah, come with me, we need a plan."

Someone was standing next to Arthur, and he eventually looked up to see that it was Charles. "Come on, you should get cleaned up." Arthur allowed himself to be led to his tent, but then he caught a look at himself in his shaving mirror. Suddenly, he gasped and doubled over, black spots appearing in his vision.

"Breathe, Arthur, it will be OK." Charles was rubbing circles into his back. Eventually Arthur was able to stand, and he dug into his chest for a change of clothes. Then he walked back to his spot near the tent where Lenny was, hopefully, still living.

Not long after, Hosea left the tent, hands bloody and shaking. Arthur was in front of him immediately. "Is he still alive?" he asked.

Hosea sighed. "Yes. But it's not good. I don't know if we can fix this, Arthur."

Arthur's head fell into his hands. "It's not fair," he said, "I was supposed to protect him. And now Bill is dead, too."

"Arthur, listen to me! It's not your fault."

"Then why am I here, Hosea? I'm supposed to protect them. I have to protect them! Otherwise, what was the point?"

Hosea didn't have a response to that, instead he sat with Arthur and hugged him.

"Arthur, Hosea," Dutch interrupted. He seems proud at having rallied the entire gang together for the first time since John had been captured, everyone determined to save one of their own. "We're going after the Braithwaites. We are getting Jack back!"

"I have to stay here," Hosea said. "They might need help with Lenny."

"Arthur, let's go!"

But Arthur didn't move, still leaning into Hosea.

"Dutch, I think Arthur should stay here."

"He's our best gun!"

"Dutch!" Hosea gestured to Arthur. "He's not in a state to fight right now."

"Fine. Everyone, let's head out!"

Most of the camp left for the manor, but soon Reverend Swanson exited the tent. His face was grim. "It's not good. I did what I could, but it's not enough."

"There has to be something," Arthur said.

"I gave him some medicine for the pain. We can keep him comfortable, but it might be slow. Stomach wounds… it's a slow death sometimes."

It was worse somehow. Worse than watching Lenny fall ten feet in front of him. Now he had to wait while the kid slowly succumbed.

"No," Arthur shook his head, "no, we can't just give up on him. There's a doctor in Saint Denis, what if we got him there." Also, Jack was in the city.

Hosea regarded him sadly. "It might not work, son."

"We have to try! I'll hitch the horses up to a wagon!"

"I'll help you," Hosea said. They got the two calmest draft horses and loaded blankets into the back of the wagon. Reverend Swanson and Arthur carried Lenny carefully into the back.

Hosea and Arthur sat in the front to drive, Reverend Swanson in the back to keep an eye on Lenny. It was a slim chance, but he couldn't give up on him yet.

Not yet.


	16. Chapter 16: Saint Denis

**Chapter 16: Saint Denis**

_Lenny was shot trying to stop Jack from being taken by the Braithwaites. We took him to the doctor in Saint Denis, but we don't know if he's going to survive. Bill is dead, too. Is this the price of saving Sean?_

_I'm going to Angelo Bronte to get Jack back before Dutch can get here. I can't let Dutch meet the man. We saw smoke rising from the manor from the road, so I have to move fast._

* * *

The doctor jumped into action as soon as they pulled up in the wagon. "Get him in here, quick!" Arthur gathered Lenny into his arms and took him into the room, Reverend Swanson explaining what happened and what he had done so far.

Then, the assistant was guiding the three of them out of the room, Hosea practically dragging Arthur away. Reverend Swanson went across the street, but for once, he wasn't seeking a drink. Instead, he went to the church to pray.

"I should go get Jack," Arthur said.

"Do you want me to join you?"

"Someone should stay here with Lenny."

He walked outside to Dakota, and spent a few moments petting her and feeding her peppermints. Mounting up, he didn't immediately head to the wealthy district. He first got himself, Hosea, and Swanson a hotel room, and he also treated himself to a bath. Not that he was trying to impress Angelo Bronte, he really wasn't, but he also didn't want Bronte to think of him as a dumb country hick that he could manipulate.

He also acquired some fancier clothes, chuckling a little as he bought the suit that he had ruined jumping off the river boat he, Javier, and Trelawny had robbed.

Dakota trotted down the busy roads, tossing her head as she found herself in the enclosed space rather than the wide open fields they were both used to. He hitched her in the park across from the Bronte house, and walked up to the guards.

"Hi," he awkwardly started. "I need to speak to Angelo Bronte."

"Mr. Bronte does not see people without an appointment. Who are you?"

"Well, I heard he's got my friends son, and I'm here to get him back." The gate guard moved his finger closer to the trigger, but Arthur had already drawn his revolver from the holster. "Don't test me, boy. Just because I want to do this civilized don't mean I have to."

The guard hesitated, but opened the gate. Arthur slid his revolver back in the holster and kept his hands visible in front of him. No need to cause a scene. They led him to the Italian man, who sat in his robe and narrowed his eyes at the intruder in his home. He spoke in Italian to men in a cold, sneering tone, and Arthur doubted that the words were pleasant.

Arthur did not possess Dutch's charm in his words, but damn it if he wasn't going to be direct. And he had one thing that Dutch was never willing to part with: money. No doubt, he expected to buy his way out of this, or spend his evening catching grave robbers.

"So, you walk up to my front door, in my city, and demand a meeting with me?" Bronte spoke first.

"I'm here for the boy."

"And you think you can just come here and take him?"

"Of course not," Arthur smiled. "I know how this works. You are in business with the Braithwaite family. You agreed to take my friend's son, and you want to be paid. Well, Catherine Braithwaite ain't paying you. Pretty sure my associates burned their fancy manor to the ground. So, let's make a deal."

Bronte laughed and gestured for Arthur to sit. "You hear this man? I love him. You are right, Mr.?"

"Morgan. Arthur Morgan."

"How about this, Mr. Morgan. You perform a simple job for me, and you get your friend's son back."

"What's the job."

Bronte explained the job, exactly as Arthur remembered. Robbing graverobbers. But one thing first. "Before I go out and do this, I want to see Jack. Make sure I'm going to get my end of the deal."

A laugh, a gesture to his men, and soon Jack was running over the Arthur. "Uncle Arthur!" he said, "You're here!"

"Hey, kiddo!" Arthur swept Jack up into a hug.

"Where's Mamma and Pa?"

"Well, your mom is back at camp, and your father, you see we weren't entirely which house to go to."

"Oh, that's OK. Are we going to go home now?"

"Yeah, in a bit, OK? I have to do a job for Mr. Bronte, and then we can go."

"OK!"

It was harder to stop the grave robbers with just himself, but he managed it. By the time he returned, Bronte had gone inside, and Jack was waiting outside with a guard. "Arthur, you're back!"

The guard turned to Arthur, and said, "Mr. Bronte would like to invite you to a garden party at the Mayor's house, you and your associates."

Arthur almost refused right then and there, but the party was an opportunity to check on Rains Fall and Eagle Flies. "Tell Mr. Bronte 'thank you,'and if I'm still in the city, I will attend. I'm sure he can understand that this place isn't for me."

"Let's go, Jack!" He lifted the boy up onto Dakota and mounted up behind him. "It's late, so we are going to spend the night at a hotel with Hosea, and we will go back to camp in the morning. You alright?"

"Oh yeah! Papa Bronte fed me good!" Jack launched into an explanation of Italian words and food.

"Maybe just call him Mr. Bronte, Jack."

"OK!"

They arrived at the hotel, and they saw Hosea sitting outside smoking. "Jack!" he called when he noticed them. "Good to see you, son! We missed you!"

"I had a good time! Have you ever had spaghetti?"

"I can't say I have."

Arthur cut in, "You tired, Jack? I bet you've never slept in a hotel before."

After they put Jack to bed, Arthur asked about Lenny.

"The doctor still isn't sure. He's keeping Lenny comfortable, but the risk of infection is too high."

"Has he been awake?"

"Not entirely. We got him to take water and medicine, but I don't think he was aware of what was happening."

"I'm going to take Jack back to camp in the morning. I want to leave, Hosea. I know you've been with Dutch for a long time, I have too. But you know where we are going, and I don't think I can stop it. Not while we stay with Dutch."

Hosea nodded. "We should try to get everyone west. Buy some land, settle down, hope they forget about us."

"I hate that this country is becoming more civilized, and I will never fit into a place like this." Arthur gestured around the street, the glowing orange street lamps and cobblestone walkways. "But having land of my own? Honest work? A home? I think I can do that."

Hosea smiled. "I can see it. You with a big ranch, roping cows and chasing coyotes off the land!"

"Who says I'll own cows?"

"You going to grow crops?"

Arthur laughed. "No, I'm definitely more of a livestock man."

"I hope you get that one day, Arthur."

"You too, Hosea. I'm taking you with me!"

They sat and smoked on the porch for a while before they retired upstairs. The next morning, before Jack woke up, Arthur went to see Lenny. The doctor looked up as he entered, Swanson was also sitting at Lenny's side. Lenny himself was completely still, only the slightest movement of his chest giving away the fact that he was still alive.

"Has he been awake?" Arthur asked.

"For a little. I'm afraid I may be reading him his last rites, soon."

"Can I sit with him, for a minute?"

Swanson took that as his cue to leave, slipping quietly out of the room, probably back to the church. Would this be what caused the change in Swanson? Arthur remembered him taking charge and taking care of the camp, even trying to get the others to run, too.

Arthur cradled Lenny's limp hand in his own. "Hey Lenny, can you hear me?"

Lenny's eyebrow twitched, his breathing picking up a little, but his eyes didn't open.

"I got Jack back, Lenny. He's alright, he's just fine. Everyone is fine. You just need to keep fighting for us. I'm sorry, Lenny, I'm so sorry. I wanted to protect you and I'm afraid I made everything worse."

Shouting could be heard outside, but he ignored it. But it kept growing louder, and Swanson returned.

"Mr. Morgan, Mr. Van der Linde and Mr. Marston are outside."

Sure enough, Dutch and John waited outside. John paced back and forth on the sidewalk, while Dutch appeared to be seething in rage. But whatever Dutch wanted to say, he contained it when he asked, "How is Lenny?"

"Still alive, but he's not doing too good."

"The Braithwaites don't have Jack. Apparently they gave him to some fellow named Angelo Bronte. We burned their manor to the ground, but I need you to find this man. Go to the saloons, see what you can turn up-"

"PA!"

Hosea was guiding Jack down the street, and the boy was running to John as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. John knelt down and caught Jack in his arms. "You alright, son?"

"I'm fine! I had a great time at Mr. Bronte's house! I had my own room and books and toys!"

"Arthur," Dutch began, "How? How did you find him?"

"Did some exploring when I got here, heard some rumors."

"Any problems?"

"Well, Mr. Bronte is a greasy little man who owns pretty much half the city, but in the end, all he wanted was to be paid. We settled things."

"Paid? How much?"

"No money, just a job. He wanted me to stop some grave robbers who weren't giving him a cut."

"Arthur, thank you," John said.

"We should get him back to camp," Arthur said. "I'll ride with you."

"I think I'll stay here, try to learn a little more about this Mr. Bronte."

"Dutch, let it go. We got Jack back. I don't want to stay in this town any longer than we have to."

"Well, Arthur, we need money if we are going to leave here. This town might have some!"

"Fine. Let's go, John. Hosea, you'll stay here with Lenny?"

"Of course, Arthur."

Arthur was upset to notice that they were heading to Shady Belle. Funny, he thought, he didn't remember clearing the place with Lenny. As it turned out, when he asked Marston about it, John himself had done the job with Lenny while Arthur was on a fishing trip with Hosea.

Abigail was relieved when they arrived with Jack, thanking Arthur profusely and hugging him. A lot of people asked after Lenny, and Arthur shared what he could. Eventually, the crowd moved towards the fire, ready for a party.

"Martson, listen to me." He pulled John off to the side. "Dutch's plans, they're not going to work. I want to leave, but I want to make sure your family, and the rest of those folks are alright first."

"Are you sure, Arthur?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Things have changed, John. Dutch has changed. I know you see it, too."

"I wouldn't have believed you before, but after that thing with those two families and O'Driscoll? When will you leave?"

"As soon as I figure out where to go. I want to get west, around the Pinkertons and Blackwater, but those mountain passes are dangerous. And we will have to move fast. I don't know what Dutch will do if we leave."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Just Hosea."

"I'll let him know that I'm thinking of going with you."

"Just be careful around some of these folk. Especially Micah," Arthur said.

Arthur and John separated and joined the party, and later Miss Grimshaw showed Arthur up to his room. He collapsed into the bed. Tomorrow, he had work to do.


	17. Chapter 17: Bounty

If it feels like in this chapter that there are huge leaps being made or things happening too quickly, its partially because it comes after a huge writing gap during my first draft. I went to Korea for a week, and therefore stopped writing for a month. Because that's how my brain works! But anyways, it was a problem I never quite figured out how to solve, and since it was at least moving in the direction I wanted it to move, I left it throughout the edits.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Bounty**

_We are in Shady Belle now. I've kept Dutch from meeting Angelo Bronte for now, but Dutch is not one to lie low. He's started talking about Tahiti, and I think it's time to go._

_I don't want to leave any family behind, and I'm worried about leaving Lenny, too. He's real sick now, and we still don't know if he's going to make it._

* * *

As Arthur rode through the streets of Saint Denis, he kept his eyes peeled for three people: Brother Dorkins, Sister Calderon, and Rains Fall. The former two would be easy to find in the city, but he had no idea if Rains Fall was here. As much as Arthur wanted to see the man again, he hoped that the situation with the Wapiti Reservation was better this time around.

Unfortunately, it wasn't. He came across Rains Fall and Eagle Flies standing with the writer, Evelyn Miller.

"Mr. Miller, this is a good friend, Arthur," Rains Fall introduced. "Mr. Morgan was the one who warned us of the men seeking to take our land."

"Ah, yes, you knew of the survey," Mr. Miller said. "Unfortunately, the men came and have written up a report. They are claiming that huge reserves of oil are under their land! But I don't have the proof."

Arthur met Rains Fall's eyes, the same thought passing between them. This was the start of it all.

"Perhaps I can help."

"How?" Miller asked.

"Let's just say I have a talent for acquiring certain items."

"We will pay you very handsomely, Mr. Morgan," said Rains Fall, but Arthur shook his head, an idea forming.

"I don't want your money, but there might be something you can help me with."

Eagle Flies spoke up for the first time. "I told you, they are all the same."

"I'm trying to go west, trying to get some people west as well, but we can't go through Blackwater. Do you know of any safe way north through the Grizzlies?"

"There are some paths. They are long and difficult, some you can't take wagons, but it is possible, yes."

"I might ask you to show me some of those routes, if it's alright."

Rains Fall nodded. "Meet my son up at Citadel Rock in a few days, west of the oil fields."

With some time to spare, and no intention of helping with Dutch's plans, Arthur headed north to check in with Hamish Sinclair.

The veteran sat on his porch, cleaning his gun when Arthur arrived, and waved him over. "Arthur! How are you? I got your letter, and your money."

"Good to see you, Hamish. Want to go hunting?"

"Sure! There's a bear that's been in this area for a few weeks now, and I haven't had the chance to go after him yet."

"Let me grab my gun!" They rode around O'Creagh's Run, tracking a bear that turned out to be gigantic! Not as big as the one he took down with Hosea, but not one Arthur would want to meet alone in the woods. As they skinned the beast, Arthur told Hamish the story of the scarred bastard that almost ate him and Hosea, and even Hamish remembered him.

"I never got the chance to go after that monster, glad you got him. What did you do with the pelt?"

"Sold it to the local trapper. Got sixty bucks for it. Someone probably made a rug out of him."

"Well, I'm going to mount this guy on my wall," Hamish said as they returned to the cabin. "Want some coffee?"

They sat and talked for a while. Hamish passed over an enormous sum of money, asking, "Who did you capture to earn that?"

"Colm O'Driscoll."

"Seriously? How?"

"Well, my friend went missing and Hosea, me, and this woman named Sadie were trying to track him down. Found him in an O'Driscoll camp, and when we took them out, one of them was Colm. Took him to Strawberry, dropped him off, and apparently he is worth quite a bit!"

Hamish laughed. "Glad you are alright! And your friend?"

"Oh, John is fine. We took him to a doctor, Sadie too because she got hurt, but they're both OK."

The sun slipped below the horizon, and after multiple cups of coffee turning into drinks and dinner, Arthur ended up rolling out his bedroll and spending the night at Hamish's cabin.

The next morning, they said their goodbyes, and Arthur started heading to the Heartlands. But soon he saw a man riding up to him.

"Mr. Morgan," the man called, and Arthur stiffened, recognizing the jacket and badge. Pinkertons.

"I think you've got the wrong man," Arthur tried, but more men were appearing out of the woods, guns pointed at him.

"Funny, I suppose you prefer Arthur Callahan? You certainly match the description of the man who collected the bounty on Colm O'Driscoll. And you match the description of a man who is wanted in a couple of states. Perhaps you could come with us and talk."

"I'd rather be on my way." But the men were circling Dakota, and he was alone. Hamish's cabin was too far, but Arthur didn't want the man in danger. Not after seeing him die once before.

But before he could decide whether to talk or shoot his way out, something large swung into the back of his head, and his vision went black.

* * *

The smell of burning coal hit his nose first, then the sounds of a train, shouting, metal hitting rock filled his ears. Something was rubbing into his wrists, his arms were tied behind him. His entire body felt slow, something was dripping off his head, and his eyes blinked open to a dark room. The Pinkerton Agent in front of him was not one he recognized, but then again Milton and Ross were dead.

"Take it slow, Mr. Morgan, we have all day."

"Naw, let's get this over with," he said carefully, "what do you want?"

"You did us a huge favor, taking out Colm O'Driscoll. Now, we want Van der Linde."

Arthur finally recognized his surroundings as Annesburg, and he had no doubt that there were agents all around the town. "I get you one outlaw, and you greedy bastards want another?"

"This is a civilized world, Mr. Morgan. It doesn't have a place for people like Van der Linde. They have no use in society."

Arthur decided in that moment to take a gamble. It was a vague memory and assumption, but it was worth a shot. He had nothing else to lose. "You seemed to have a use for Colm."

"Excuse me?"

"You offered him a deal. Van der Linde for his freedom. Now I don't know if you would have actually followed through with it, but maybe you should." He looked the not yet introduced agent in the eyes and smirked. "I killed Colm O'Driscoll for you. And he has a much more violent gang, a lot more people, too, the way they keep cropping up no matter how man bullets I put in them."

"So?"

"I'm not the only one who knows. If I go missing, what's to stop Hosea Matthews or John Marston from telling the whole world that the Pinkertons work with criminals. Imagine what that would do to your reputation!"

The agent considered his options. "You are bluffing," he said, sitting back in his chair.

"Maybe. But you could give me the same deal, and I won't say a word. You clear my bounty, and Hosea Matthews', and John Marston's, since they helped out. Hell, you can put that money for Colm towards it if you have to." As far as he was aware, Sadie Adler didn't have a bounty yet.

"Not Van der Linde's?"

"Look, we all know where this country is headed. They don't want folks like us no more, but old Dutch won't change. But me, a couple of other folks, we want out."

"You, Morgan? You are going to give up the lying, and stealing, and killing, and be an honest man?'

"Yes," he said simply.

The agent looked skeptical. "And Van der Linde? Are you going to tell us where to find him?"

"No. I may disagree with his vision for the future, but I won't betray those twenty years. I suggest you not ask me to again."

The agent stood up, going to a desk and writing something on a few pieces of paper. He signed with a flourish, before returning to Arthur. "Your current bounties will be cleared, as well as Mr. Matthews and Mr. Marston. I suggest you leave Van der Linde quick, because if we catch you breaking the law with him again, you'll be arrested right alongside him."

A knife sliced through the bonds around Arthur's wrists, and he rubbed the sore skin to get blood back to his hands. He took the offered papers, signed by the lead Pinkerton agent, Mr. Smith.

And they let him walk out, didn't even take the bounty money from him. Dakota was hitched up at the post office, she nickered softly when he approached. Arthur quickly rode out of town, taking a beeline into the woods. He didn't trust the Pinkertons to not follow him, especially since he intended to meet up with Eagle Flies. He galloped north, figuring he could lose any pursuers in the Grizzlies, but then he realized where he was. He was near Willard's Rest.

Slowing Dakota to a trot, he pointed her towards the small homestead. Charlotte and her husband could be there, and Cal was likely still alive. In fact, they were outside. Cal was on the roof inspecting the shingles, and Charlotte held the ladder.

"Howdy folks!" he called. Both Charlotte and Cal jumped, and the way Cal's foot slipped caused Arthur's heart to jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Last time I was up here, no one lived here."

"We just moved here, about a week ago actually," Charlotte said. "My name is Charlotte Balfour, and this is my husband Cal. We're from Chicago, but we decided to leave the city and come out here."

"Very nice, how's that going?"

Charlotte hesitated, smiling falling away. "Not well, actually. I'm afraid neither of us are very good at hunting, so we've mostly been making trips to Annesburg for supplies."

"Well, you got a gun? I can show you some tricks, if you like."

"Really?" Cal said, climbing down from the roof. "That is mighty kind of you, sir."

"Of course, now come on. Should be some rabbits in these woods."

The three of them crept through the woods, Arthur leading the way. He paused, holding up a hand to indicate for the couple to do the same. He gestured to the rabbit chewing on some clover up ahead, and aimed his varmint rifle at its head. A gentle squeeze of the trigger, and the family had dinner. Once he got them to skin it, of course.

"I hope that helps you guys out," he said before he departed. If he remembered correctly, Cal was killed by a bear, and as much as he hoped the couple could survive, he certainly couldn't be there to protect them from everything. Perhaps helping them to hunt would keep them from wandering too far into bear country. Perhaps not. But he was happy knowing he did something.

Two days later, after circling the Grizzlies and doubling back through Cumberland Forest, he met up with Eagle Flies. Stealing the documents went better this time, Arthur carefully covering his whole face, and was more careful sneaking past guards, and when he exited the window after getting the documents, he chose a more secluded place to jump off the roof.

"Thank you," Eagle Flies said.

"Don't think anyone recognized me, and I'm not sure if they will help, but I hope for the best."

Before they departed, Eagle Flies said, "My father seems to trust you. I know you spoke to him a few months ago, and I don't know what you said to him, but ever since he's been more involved in trying to convince the government to maintain the treaty. I think he is foolish sometimes, but perhaps it will help."

"I hope so, son," Arthur replied. "Feel free to write if you need more help. If I move, I'll let you know where I've gone."

They parted ways, Arthur taking a winding route south to Saint Denis, seeing for the first time a way out of this mess.


	18. Chapter 18: Rat

**Chapter 18: Rat**

_I'm a free man, maybe. I don't trust the Pinkertons to keep their word for long, and as soon as I can get west away from them, the better._

_I'm going to gather Hosea, John's family, and anyone else who wants to go, and head west. We can find land, become ranchers. Live like decent folk, and not need to run anymore._

* * *

Arthur turned down the lane to Shady Belle, a perfect alligator pelt strapped to Dakota's back, a smile on his face. "Who's there?" he heard from Sadie.

"Arthur!" he shouted back. "Glad to see you feel good enough to stand watch."

"They can't keep me down long. But Arthur, I should warn you, Micah's been talking to Dutch about you disappearing."

"What do you mean?"

"He says he saw you with Pinkertons. That true?"

"Long story," he sighed. "Come talk to me after you get off shift."

He slid off Dakota and pulled the pelt with him, carrying it to Mr. Pearson. "Ah, Mr. Morgan, you're back!" Pearson greeted.

"Think you can make something out of this? I've got the meat, too."

"We'll have alligator stew tonight! Thank you, Mr. Morgan." But any more conversation was quickly stopped by a shout from across the camp.

"ARTHUR!" Dutch stormed across the camp, a smug looking Micah trailing behind. "Where have you been?"

Arthur didn't miss the way both Dutch and Micah had their hands on their guns. "Up north helping a friend. Ran into some trouble, had to take the long way back. Why?"

"Then you want to tell me what you were doing with Pinkertons?"

The crowd gathered around them, and Arthur had no doubt that they had been subjected to days of ranting from Dutch and Micah's incorrect analysis of the situation. "Excuse me?"

"Micah saw you with them in Annesburg!"

"Well, did he leave out the part where I was hit over the head? Thanks for the rescue, by the way."

"Didn't seem like you needed it, cowpoke. Just strolled on out of there a free man, then disappeared. Where'd you go, Morgan?"

"You should know, if you were the one following me."

"Figured I would see you back at camp. You certainly took your time." Micah's right hand tightened around his revolver, the left moving to his second gun as well.

"I'm not stupid enough to lead Pinkertons back to camp! Any idiot who tried to follow me is probably still lost in the Grizzlies!"

Dutch, who got tired of observing the exchange, demanded answers. "What did they want?"

"You, of course."

"And what did you tell them?"

"Nothing."

"And they just let you go?" Dutch said, taking a step forward.

Arthur stood his ground. "I told them some information I learned from Colm, just before Sadie killed him. Colm had a deal with them, Dutch. He was going to get his bounty cleared if he brought you in. Probably would have gotten himself arrested, too, but that doesn't matter now. But I convinced the Pinkertons that y'all knew about it, and if I went missing, you would tell all the papers and the politicians that their lawmen can't make arrests with the help of even nastier outlaws. And that since I took care of Colm for them, and his bounty was much larger than mine, no one would confess their little secret if they let me go."

"And they did, just like that?"

"Just like that. Took a little trip around the mountains to make sure I wasn't followed, and came back here."

Dutch still looked skeptical, and for once, Arthur didn't blame him. He barely believed it himself, except for the fact that it happened to him. But Micah?

Micah was livid.

"He's lying, Dutch! I bet the Pinkertons are on their way right now!"

"You be quiet, Mr. Bell! You've been with this gang for what? Six months? And you think you have any idea about us?" And there was Miss Grimshaw, stepping in to stand up to Micah and Dutch, and Micah turned slightly and backed up a step. A perfect position to draw his guns and aim that at both Arthur and Susan. And he couldn't let that happen. "Arthur's been with this gang for twenty years, Dutch, you really think he would betray this gang?"

"I ain't lying! Just because you would sell this gang out if it was in your best interest, Micah, doesn't mean I would!"

It got the result he wanted. Micah abandoned any thought Miss Grimshaw and turned towards Arthur. "What did you say about me?"

"I said, if anyone here was a rat-"

Micah lunged forward, abandoning the thought of a gun and instead wrapping his hands around Arthur's throat and squeezing down. People were shouting, hands were coming up to pull Micah away from Arthur.

And Arthur fought, clawing at the hands and driving his fist into Micah's stomach. He was desperate to break free, to have this fight end differently than the his last with Micah, to win. But this time he wasn't alone. The others pulled Micah away from him. His knees hit the ground, and there were hands on him, too, roughly patting him on the back through his coughing.

"You're alright, Mr. Morgan!"

One deep breath, then another, and another, and Arthur felt the panic beginning to subside. Miss Grimshaw was behind him, Charles and Javier were wrestling Micah away. Dutch was yelling at everyone, Micah and Arthur included.

Susan pulled Arthur up by the arm, leading him away from the camp, glaring daggers back at Dutch as she did.

"I swear, I have no idea why Mr. Van der Linde keeps that idiot around!"

"Where's Hosea?" he gasped.

"Mr. Matthews is in town with Lenny still. I must say, I wasn't sure that boy was going to make it, but he's doing rather well now."

"Lenny's still alive?" Relief flooded his body. "I have to see him."

"You will, but for now you sit!" Miss Grimshaw easily pushed Arthur down onto a log.

He sighed. "I have to go, Susan."

"You can talk for a minute."

"No, not that. I mean, leave this gang."

He expected her to yell. Tell him he was an idiot, maybe, or slap the back of his head and tell him to be sensible. He didn't expect the gentle hand on his shoulder, or the soft, "I know."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I've seen you talking with Hosea. I know you haven't been giving nearly as much to the box. Something is going on, I'm not an idiot, boy."

That brought a smile to Arthur's face, if only briefly, but it fell away when he glanced to Dutch. "You going to tell Dutch?"

"No."

"I'm not ready to leave just yet. I want to make sure folks are safe, first."

"You taking people with you?"

"Everyone, if I could. Except Micah. But I haven't asked anyone yet. Well, I mentioned it to John, and I think he'll come with me. Hosea knows, but he hasn't said for sure if he will join me. As for the others, I'm not sure. I bet Kieran would go with me. Sadie, Charles. Sean probably would, too."

"I think more people would follow you than you think. You've always taken care of the people and they've noticed. If Kieran goes with you, then Mary-Beth will as well, she's quite smitten with him these days. Sean and Karen are quite the pair. You probably won't get Tilly though. She's spent a lot of time in town, and I think there's a man!"

"What, Lenny?"

"No, some fancy lawyer she met. She seems really happy."

Arthur stood after a bit, and said, "I should really meet up with Hosea. Thank you, Susan."

"Someone has to be there for you boys!"

Everyone stared at Arthur when he walked towards the horses, despite the fact that he had just returned. Arthur figured he deserved a night in the hotel in town, to get away from Micah. Kieran smiled at him from the horses. Charles walked over from the fire. "You heading into town?"

"Sure, want to come with? You too, Kieran? Want to go into town and see the height of society?"

"Let me just saddle Branwen!"

The three trotted towards Saint Denis, taking their time. Arthur shared his plans to drink in the saloon and spend the night, saying the three of them deserved it once in a while. But they also went slow as Arthur confessed his plans to leave.

"I want to do what Dutch's plan was. The original plan, before he started talking about Tahiti. I want to go west, buy some land, settle down as ranchers. Or something. But just a place where we can be safe and happy."

"What kind of ranch are you thinking of?" Kieran asked.

"Livestock, probably. I can't see myself growing crops. I would like to raise horses, I think."

"That would be nice."

"And I wanted to know if you two wanted to go with me? Because this thing with Dutch? It's going to end, and it's not going to end well."

"I agree," Charles said. "Dutch's plan with Tahiti seems ridiculous. Impossible. And after what just happened with Micah? He listened to what that bastard said all week before you returned, seemed to believe it no matter what the rest of us said."

"Thank you, by the way, for pulling Micah off me."

"It gets worse, Arthur. Dutch has been saying things to John. Keeps… reminding him that the gang comes first, before family. He hasn't outright threatened Abigail or Jack, but I'm worried."

Kieran agreed with Charles, and as they approached the bridge into Saint Denis, Arthur said quietly, "We need a place to set up a new camp, best to go north of here. I've been talking with Chief Rains Fall about a route through the Grizzlies so we can avoid Blackwater and head west, but if we want to avoid a shootout, we need a place that we can lay low and regroup. Start thinking of places in Ambarino."

"We will," Charles said.

Charles and Kieran headed to the saloon, but Arthur turned Dakota to the doctor's office. He hitched Dakota and walked inside. The doctor greeted him warmly when he entered and directed him to a side room.

"We were able to move your friend in here, since he is doing so well. You may be able to take him home soon, though I suggest staying near a doctor if you are able, just in case."

"Thank you, doctor. You do good work."

He knocked on the door before opening it, and there was Lenny, looking way too skinny and sick, eyes blinking slow, but a smile spreading across his face when he realized that Arthur was there.

"Arthur!" Lenny said, and Arthur was at his side in two strides.

"Hey, kid! You're looking better than when I last saw you."

"I heard you got Jack back all right. Thank you!"

"Yeah, it was no problem. The guy only wanted to get paid."

"I wish I could have stopped them."

"No, Lenny, don't think like that. You did good. If you hadn't spotted them take Jack, it could have been hours before we realized what happened."

Tilly was sewing, and Hosea was there, too, whispering with Trelawny in the corner. "Oh, good to see you, Mr. Morgan," Trelawny said. "How would you like to spend an evening with me? Hosea was telling me that you bought yourself quite the suit!"

"We attending something fancy?"

"Indeed! A high stakes poker game that should go rather well in your favor. Herr Strauss is working on some of the details as we speak."

"Actually, I need to talk to you all about something."

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Hosea asked.

"Micah accused me of ratting on the gang, and he almost convinced Dutch of it too. But Micah tried to attack me-"

Hosea stood quickly, moving towards Arthur. "What! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine! But Dutch, he just stood there and watched. I think Miss Grimshaw is going to try to talk some sense into him, but I can't stay in camp much longer."

"Why did Dutch think you were a traitor?"

"That's the other thing I need to tell you about." He pulled the papers he got from his satchel. "I got picked up by Pinkertons. It's fine!" he said in response to their panicked expressions. "They let me go, on account of our killing Colm O'Driscoll. I even got our bounties cleared. You, me, and John."

Hosea read over the papers, signed by Agent Smith, exonerating the three of them. "Arthur, this is incredible!"

"We can leave, Hosea. I still want to avoid Blackwater, but we could get somewhere no one will remember us! Some people want to go with us, too. I've already talked to Charles and Kieran."

"I want to go with you, too," Lenny spoke up. "But I don't think I can travel just yet."

"I'll stay in Saint Denis with him," Tilly said. "You can go, get settled, and send for him later."

"What about you, Miss Tilly?"

"Well," she blushed, "I've met someone. I'm not sure if it will go anywhere, but I want to give it a chance."

"I'll also stay here to help them. This city seems to suite me," Trelawny said.

"Thank you," Arthur said. "But Hosea, I'm worried about John and his family. Charles mentioned some comments Dutch has made, and I think they need to get out of here first. We probably shouldn't leave all at once, but there's a couple living up north of Annesburg, and I'm thinking about sending John and his family up to them."

"I understand. But before I go, I want to try to convince Dutch to see reason, just one more time. We've been with Dutch a long time, Arthur. I can't just throw that away."

"I know," agreed Arthur. "But I want to make sure John, Abigail, and Jack are safe first."

They said goodbye, Hosea looking worried, Tilly and Trelawny determined, and Lenny a little sad. And Arthur went to the saloon, hoping to forget for just a moment what was about to occur.


	19. Chapter 19: The Plan

**Chapter 19: The Plan**

_Charles and Kieran are coming with me when I leave. Tilly will stay with Lenny until he is better, and Trelawny as well. Of course, he wants me to work one last job, the poker game on the river boat. But I can't risk getting caught now, not when I'm so close to leaving._

_Hosea is going to help John and his family get ready to leave. The current plan is that they will go to Willard's Rest, possibly with Sadie, Kieran, and Mary-Beth. Then, Charles and I will go to the Wapiti Reservation to talk with Rains Fall about how to get over the mountains. If anyone else wants to go with me, I may send them to Hamish's cabin temporarily._

* * *

He pulled Karen aside while she was on watch, careful not to get too close to the house while everyone was still awake. He couldn't handle talking to Dutch just yet.

"Karen, I'm leaving soon. Going to try to go west, if I can. A lot of people are going with me, and I wanted to invite you, too. You and Sean."

She nodded. "I'll talk to Sean, but I think he will go for it. He loves you like a brother, you know. Really looks up to you. We both do."

"Thank you, Karen."

Next was Sadie. He had always assumed that Sadie would go with him, only because of all the times they rode together in his previous life. But they didn't have that yet, and with Colm O'Driscoll dead, was there any reason for her to stay with them?

But he didn't need to worry. She smiled and said, "Of course I'll go with you! No reason for me to stay here no more, now that Colm is dead! And a new life out west? I like the sound of that."

In a different life, under different circumstances, Arthur thought he might have had a chance with Sadie Adler. Maybe he still would. But the timing was wrong, she just lost her husband, just found her revenge, and they needed to get away from this gang.

And with that, he was almost ready, minus a slight rearrangement of the people, as he explained to Hosea later that night. John and his family would travel with Kieran and Mary-Beth as planned to Willard's Rest. Sadie, Karen, and Sean would go to Hamish's cabin at the same time. He was a little worried about the balance of guns. Abigail may have killed Agent Milton, and Kieran had saved his life, but their only experienced man was John. Meanwhile, the other group had three people who could easily hold their own. But Arthur figured that Kieran would have the homestead experience to help Charlotte and Cal, while the loving couple might remind Sadie a little too much of what she lost. He was confident John would be alright.

Once they were gone, Hosea, Charles, and Arthur himself would announce their intention to also go. They would offer up a chance to join them to the Javier, Molly, and the rest of the gang. He hoped some would join, especially Javier and Molly, but he couldn't be sure. As for the others, if they didn't join him, they would scatter on their own.

Arthur brought back some game for Mr. Pearson on the night he intended to tell everyone what to do, and Dutch saw him.

"Arthur! I think I found a way out of here! There's a boat, and a captain that is willing to take us to Australia or Tahiti, we just need some money. Now, I was finally able to meet Mr. Bronte-"

"You went to find that snake, Dutch?"

"It's a good lead, the trolley station!"

Of course Angelo Bronte would try to play Dutch the exact same way, even when they somehow met under different circumstances. "Money? In a trolley station? It sounds like a setup, Dutch!" Arthur tried, but then there was Micah.

"All this doubting, cowpoke! If the boss says there's money-"

"Bronte says there's money, Micah. I thought you were smarter than this!"

"We need a third gun, Arthur," Dutch said.

"No."

"I don't like this new attitude of yours, Arthur! You claim to love this gang, and yet you won't support it!"

"THERE IS NO TAHITI, DUTCH!" Arthur exploded. "Not for people like us!"

It was time.

Early the next morning, Dutch took Micah and Javier to rob the trolley station. Arthur hoped he would see Javier again. But in the moment, he immediately went to find John, Abigail, Kieran, and Mary-Beth.

"It's time. We need to get out of here, now! You guys go, up to that place I showed you, John. Cal and Charlotte are good people, it's real quiet, I'll come find you when I can!"

"You're not coming with us?" Mary-Beth asked.

"Not yet, I have to help Sean, Karen, and Sadie. Then I'm going to see if any of the others want to join. I'll find you at Willard's Rest soon, and I'll write if I can't get there quick.

Mary-Beth and Abigail hugged Arthur, tears building in their eyes. Jack asked if they were going to a new camp again, but Abigail assured him that soon, they would have a proper home. Cain kept quiet even as Arthur snuck the group to the wagon he and Kieran had prepared.

"Arthur, I don't know what to say," John said.

"I do," Arthur replied, pulling John into a hug. "I'm sorry that I wasn't the best brother, before. I was hard on you when you came back, and I was angry, but I should have forgiven you then. You've become a good father, and I know you will do right by that boy. Now go, ride north, quick as you can! Keep them safe, John."

"You be safe too," John replied. "And thank you, thank you for this."

"You're welcome, John. Now, get out of here!"

Susan Grimshaw watched them leave from watch, and John paused briefly to say goodbye before heading out. It was a quick affair, Miss Grimshaw warning John that she would track him down if he let anything happen to the girls, or even the O'Driscoll boy. Smiles showed past the tears, and John drove the wagon into the trees.

Arthur stood next to Susan as the sounds of horses faded into the chirping crickets and buzzing mosquitoes of the morning. "You could come with us, you know."

"I know. But even if there is one person left in this camp with Mr. van der Linde and Mr. Bell, I have to stay. I will keep them safe."

Arthur wished to save her. Wished he could stop her fate, but if the Pinkertons didn't find the camp, he felt that Micah would inevitably kill her. Should he warn her?

"Please, Susan, be careful. Micah is dangerous."

"I know. I'll keep an eye on him, Mr. Morgan."

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But she knew where the gang was going, who Micah was, who Dutch had revealed himself to be. He could never force her to leave, not Miss Grimshaw!

Sadie was sitting with Sean and Karen when he returned to camp, having subtly watched the first group depart. Arthur passed Sadie the map with Hamish's cabin marked. "I wrote to the man who lives here, Hamish Sinclair, last week. He will be expecting visitors. You'll like him, Sadie. And I trust him. Once you are there, wait for me or my letter. I'll let you know when I have a plan to move further."

"Where are you going, Arthur?" Karen asked.

"I'm going with Charles and Hosea to visit Rains Fall. He might know some passes over the mountains. From there, we will head west."

Not hours later, the bruised and beaten Dutch, Micah, and Javier returned from the trolley station. While Swanson and Grimshaw fussed over their injuries, which were thankfully only bumps and bruises and not the mild head injury Dutch had suffered last time (not that Arthur wouldn't mind a bullet in Micah's skull), the second group slipped to their horses and away from camp. Soon after, Hosea rode in from the hotel, having no doubt heard about the failed robbery.

But before Hosea could get to Dutch, Arthur pulled him aside, "Everyone has left but you, me, and Charles. It won't be long before Dutch notices."

In fact, Dutch was walking over then, having escaped the fussing of Miss Grimshaw. "Hosea, we need to discuss what to do about Angelo Bronte. He is a disease in this city, and he needs to be removed if we are going to get enough money to leave."

"Perhaps in time to move on, Dutch. Robbing in this city isn't for us."

"So you want to just take the insult and scurry off? Like cockroaches? No, no Hosea, we need to deal with business the right way."

"Revenge isn't the right way, Dutch, it never has been!"

"Well, Micah thinks we should go after Bronte."

Arthur interrupted them, "Well, if _Micah_ thinks-"

"Don't you start! Now, we need to gather the boys. Where's John? And Sean, I haven't seen them." Dutch looked around the empty camp for a moment. "Where is everyone?"

Hosea refused to meet Dutch's eye. Miss Grimshaw looked guilty in the corner, Charles standing with her. Javier was confused, Micah almost smug, and the remaining gang members gathered around.

"John's gone, Dutch. Him and his family. Some of the others went with them, too," Arthur announced, standing to face Dutch.

"He what?" Dutch's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glare forming.

"He was worried about his family, and frankly I agreed. John's almost died twice in the last few months, almost left his son without a father. Look around, this isn't the place for Jack! He was taken to scare us, too!"

"That… disloyal… I had a PLAN, ARTHUR! Who else left?"

"Dutch-" Hosea tried.

"WHO?"

And the smug little rat stepped forward. "That Mrs. Adler is gone, Sean, the O'Driscoll, some of the girls, too." Micah was clearly enjoying the lack of competition in the gang.

Dutch turned on Arthur. "Where did they go?"

"I won't tell you."

"We don't need them, Dutch," Micah said.

"WHERE?"

"Let them go, Dutch," Hosea pleaded.

"Loyalty, Hosea! That's all I want. Otherwise this thing we have? It just falls apart. Now they need to come back here and goddamn apologize!"

Hosea sighed, turning away. "Then, I guess it is time it falls apart."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I can't do this anymore. After what happened with John and the O'Driscolls? The Pinkertons? Blackwater? This is over. We had a good run, but…"

Dutch shook his head, glancing between Hosea and Arthur. "You planned this? You planned this behind my back!"

"I told you before, I'm an old man, Dutch van der Linde. I just want people safe."

Dutch pulled his gun from his holster, leveling it at Hosea's head. The camp stared between the two, shocked, and Arthur slowly moved forward to get between them.

"Dutch, put down the gun," he said, but it only resulted in Dutch shifting the weapon towards Arthur instead.

"You are going to betray me?" Dutch continued slowly.

"So this is a prison now?" Arthur asked. "We have to stay here, is that it? Not a family?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see hands moving towards their guns, but whether they intended to point them at Dutch or Arthur himself, he couldn't be sure. Dutch's eyes narrowed, his grip tightened, and for a second Arthur worried that Dutch would shoot him to prevent him from leaving. But then his hand lowered.

"Get out! Just, get out!"

Hosea started to argue more, but Arthur guided him away. "If anyone else wants to come with us, they can! Except Micah, of course."

A pause, and then as planned, Charles stepped forward. But he was the only one. Javier looked between the two of them, but ultimately stood with Dutch. Pearson, Uncle, Reverend Swanson, and Strauss didn't move. But they were smart enough to leave if things got bad. He looked sadly to Miss Grimshaw, who nodded her support but did not go with him. Finally, he glanced towards Molly, who was too in love to ever leave.

Charles grabbed Taima, Dakota, and Silver Dollar from the hitching post, and the three mounted up. Hosea turned one last time, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't, instead tugging on the reins and following Arthur and Charles away from Shady Belle.


	20. Chapter 20: Showdown

Almost done...

* * *

**Chapter 20: Showdown**

_We did it. We left Dutch. It still doesn't feel real. I know Hosea is sad about leaving Dutch behind, but I couldn't see any way out of it._

_Hopefully we will be able to find a way to go west, and then gather everyone together._

* * *

"You alright, Charles?" The man had looked guilty since they crossed the Lemoyne border heading towards Van Horn.

"I just wish Javier would have come with us."

"I know, me too. But he's smart, and Tilly knows how to get in contact with us." Through Hamish and Charlotte, of course. "He's certainly welcome to join us at any time."

Arthur kept glancing over his shoulder, worried that Micah would try to follow and shoot them for being traitors. Or Dutch, in hopes that he could either convince them to return or figure out where the others were hidden.

But the ride was quiet, as they continued towards Annesburg. Arthur stopped at the stables to get more supplies and treats for Dakota. Then, as he looked over the small mining houses just as the sun was beginning to set over the hills, he stopped.

"What's wrong?" Hosea asked.

"The Murfree Brood. There's a group of them holed up at Beaver Hollow." The last place Arthur wanted to return to.

"A dangerous group of maniacs," Charles said. "What about them?"

He was thinking about the girl from the stagecoach, trapped with the Murfrees for days, forced to watch the others tortured and mutilated. He could save that girl so much pain. "I was thinking about taking care of them. Charles, will you ride with me?"

"Of course." Charles may have been a little confused on the reason, but he was always willing to help Arthur out. Hosea went to get them a room at the inn as Arthur and Charles rode into the woods.

And when the last of the Murfree Brood died under one of Charles' throwing knives, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Another loose end taken care of, another life saved. Despite his failures since he had returned to Colter, and he was sure there were many, he hoped he had helped more people than he hurt. Most of his family was still alive, he hadn't destroyed the Downes family, or any family in debt with Herr Strauss.

The next morning, they rode the rest of the way to Wapiti. Rains Fall greeted them warmly, and even Eagle Flies looked happy to see them there. But regret and sadness lingered, and before he even asked, Arthur knew.

"Has anything changed with your situation," Arthur carefully asked, but the Chief shook his head.

"It seems that we have many on our side, but it's not enough. News of our troubles have made it all the way to Washington, but…"

"But Cornwall is a powerful man who wants this land," Arthur finished for him.

"And now, they are sending the army into the area, creating more conflict with my people."

"I wish there was something I could do."

"You've already done enough, Mr. Morgan. Have you met Captain Monroe? He has been a great help to us." The familiar captain extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Morgan."

"This is Charles, and Hosea." The men shook hands before Rains Fall led Arthur away to talk privately. He overheard Captain Monroe beginning to explain the situation to Hosea, the older man thinking deeply about how to help. Though, if Arthur was honest with himself, there was nothing to be done.

"I wish I could fix this," he said.

"You've done more than enough. I am very grateful for your help, and your warnings. But I'm afraid this is beyond your power to stop."

"Even with everything I know, I could have at least done something! I should have gone after Leviticus Cornwall. Dead men don't need land."

Rains Fall sighed. "I wished to handle this conflict peacefully, but these men aren't interested in peace."

"I should warn you about Colonel Favours. Talking to him is useless."

"I will remember that. My son still wants to fight, but I've started to wonder if we should just leave this place, like you are. Perhaps we would have more luck in Canada."

"But this is your home! Don't you want to fight for it?"

"My people are more important. And this isn't truly our home. This is where we were moved, after the government moved us again and again. I do not wish to force them to find a new place yet again, but the safest path may be the one of least resistance."

"I hope you find it," Arthur said.

"Now, I believe I promised to show you some routes over the Grizzlies," Rains Fall said, and they spent the next hours pouring over maps with Hosea and Charles to get around West Elizabeth. Despite their lack of bounties, Arthur still believed they would be followed if they went any other way.

Once their route was settled, Arthur, Charles and Hosea spent a few days helping around the reservation. Hosea was trying to think through any con that would help keep the army out of the area, though even he admitted it might be beyond his skill. Then, the three departed to collect the two groups: Arthur and Hosea going to Willard's Rest and Charles going to Hamish's cabin. As he rode through the trees on Dakota, he saw Jack and John pretending to sword fight using sticks, Abigail happily watching with a cup of coffee in her hand. Mary-Beth and Charlotte were chatting on the porch, and Kieran and Cal were standing by the paddock, probably discussing horses. This was what he wanted for his future, his whole family, together and happy.

"Uncle Arthur!" Jack noticed him first, dropping his stick and racing towards him. Cain, who had been sniffing around in some bushes, barked and ran after him.

"Hey Jack!"

"We leaving?"

"Soon. We are going to go west and find ourselves a home!"

"Like this one? I really like living in a house."

"Sure, Jack. We are going to build a big house and live there, together. Isn't that right?" He asked the others as they gathered around.

"We leaving now, then?" John asked.

"Oh, stay for dinner at least," Cal offered.

"I think we can manage that. Thank you both for letting them stay here."

"Oh, it was no problem at all! They were a huge help," Charlotte said.

"John even scared off a huge bear that wandered onto the property. Made a nice new rug," Cal joked. Arthur didn't want to hope, but if he inadvertently saved Cal's life by sending John here, it would be a miracle.

Arthur spent the night with the Balfours, unable to stop smiling at the happy, in love couple. The next morning, they said their goodbyes, and hid some money as thanks in a drawer when Cal and Charlotte refused to take it. They rode slowly through the forests, laughing and smiling. The return was almost uneventful, until the very end.

"There's Charles," Hosea said, pointing out the camp they had set up outside the reservation. He was standing still just outside a tent, and even as they dismounted, he knew something was very wrong.

"Charles-" he started to say, when Charles was pushed forward, gun to his back. Micah grinned as he stepped from the tent.

"Hello, son. Hosea." Dutch emerged next to Micah. Javier was there as well, uncomfortable and keeping his gun holstered.

Arthur reached for his revolver, but Micah curled his finger tighter around the trigger and pushed the muzzle into the back of Charles' head, and Arthur froze. "You alright, Charles? Where's Sean and Karen? And Sadie?"

At the sound of their names, muffled cursing could be heard from the tent. That was Sadie, alright. Or Karen. Either way, Charles answered, "They will be alright. Micah hit Sean over the head, but I think he's OK."

"Dutch," Hosea stammered. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

"You left me, Hosea. You betrayed me! Do you want to know what happened after you left? Not a day later, the Pinkertons found us. They killed Molly."

"I'm sorry," Hosea said quietly.

"Most of the others ran. Strauss is dead too, we think."

"What about Susan?"

"Had to kick her out," Micah laughed, pushing Charles away to aim his gun at Arthur. "Old bat knew you were leaving and didn't tell the boss. Fortunately, I knew about your little friend up here, Arthur."

"If you hurt Hamish-"

"Relax, cowpoke. We just followed them up here. We need to have a little chat."

Arthur risked a glance behind him. John stood in front with Kieran, Abigail, and Mary-Beth blocking Jack from view. "About what?" Hosea asked, but Arthur already knew.

"You think one of us talked."

"Well, we all know you've had a chat with the Pinkertons, cowpoke. How much did you tell them?"

"Dutch! Come on, now."

"Dutch, Arthur has been with you for twenty years. I've been with you longer. Are you really going to believe Micah over us?" Hosea asked.

Micah had to be the rat, wasn't he? No one else would have talked. But he always thought the Pinkertons had turned Micah after they got back from Guarma. Unless…

"Why were you in Annesburg that day, Micah?"

Hosea breathed in sharply next to him, immediately understanding.

"What are you talking about?" Micah said.

"You saw me with Pinkerton agents in Annesburg, but why were you there?"

"I can't go up to Annesburg now?"

"If you saw me in Annesburg, how did you know where Hamish's cabin was? Why wouldn't you rescue me from the agents? How long have you been a rat, Micah? From then, or from the beginning?"

"How dare you!"

"Oh, it all makes sense. You join the gang, saving Dutch's life in a bar. You pay those guys to attack him? And then you push him into an insane robbery of a ferry that was all over the newspapers. Perfect place for an setup, keeping the townsfolk out of the way, all of us trapped on the water to get slaughtered. Though that backfired for them, didn't it?"

Micah's smile turned dangerous, rage creeping into his features. Dutch looked back and forth between Arthur and Micah. "No, Micah has been loyal. The most loyal of all of you."

"Because he needs you to trust him, Dutch. Played you like a fiddle, simply by agreeing to everything you wanted. And after he failed to get the bounty for you in Blackwater, he had to decide whether to run with you, or run back to the masters he failed. But he got greedy, I bet. Tried to play both sides, until we left. So he cut his losses, a rat escaping a sinking ship."

"He's lying. He's lying, Dutch."

"Dutch," Hosea stepped forward. "Please listen to us. You always did, before Micah came. You've always been ambitious, but you need people to keep you grounded, not feed you impossible dreams! We left because it was becoming too dangerous."

Dutch had yet to draw a weapon, his hands resting next to his revolvers. They were close, so close to getting through to him. Javier was carefully watching Micah as well.

"Hosea… I…"

Something moved in the trees just then, causing Hosea's attention to turn away from Dutch, and Arthur noticed a split second before Micah did. "That's enough, Mr. Van der Linde!" Susan Grimshaw called, shotgun in hand, probably having kept an eye on Micah since the Pinkertons appeared. Any other time, Arthur would have been thankful for her appearance. But it reminded him too much of the last time, and Arthur was moving.

"NO!" he shouted as he pushed himself between Hosea and Micah just as Micah lined up his shot and fired.

His last thought as the bullet slammed into his chest and everything went black was a desperate plea for Hosea to be OK.


	21. Chapter 21: The West

I am not the best with endings, but here we are. A special thanks to everyone who hit follow, favorite, or review. While I would have still posted the entire story, it certainly warms the fanfic writer's heart to see that people are reading and enjoying the work. Especially since I saw multiple reviews from the same people, and some shipping requests (looking at you Blake Valentine II) which made me happy because my friend was also trying to get me to pair Arthur and Sadie. I totally ship it too, I just wasn't planning a huge relationship aspect when I first drafted the story.

Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 21: The West**

No one was entirely sure whose shot actually killed Micah.

Not that Hosea particularly cared in the moments after Arthur collapsed into him, Hosea sinking to the dirt with his arms wrapped around his son's chest. Arthur was terrifyingly still. His head fell back against Hosea's shoulder, shallow, rapid breaths ghosting past Hosea's cheek, eyes closed. Around them, however, chaos erupted.

Miss Grimshaw fired her shotgun at Micah. At almost the same time, Javier turned his gun on Micah. Even Dutch was shocked out of his stupor, firing off a round even as Micah fell to the ground. Jack was crying, Abigail holding him close so he couldn't see what was happening. Muffled shouting came from the tents as Charles went to free their friends. Eagle Flies and Paytah ran down the hill, bows drawn and ready.

Hosea found out later, after Charles and Eagle Flies pulled a barely breathing Arthur from Hosea's grasp and carried him back to Wapiti, after their doctor kicked Hosea out, after it took John dragging him away from the tent, what had actually happened.

Miss Grimshaw, having been pushed out by Dutch and Micah for revealing that she knew of Arthur's plans, had stayed near Shady Belle long enough to see the Pinkertons show up. She confirmed that both Molly and Strauss were dead with tears in her eyes, and they continued to fall long after. Uncle and Mr. Pearson had disappeared, but as far as she was aware they were still alive. Reverend Swanson helped her move Lenny out of the city, just to be safe, and then she left to find and warn Arthur. She hadn't known Micah and Dutch had tracked them to Wapiti as well.

The doctor emerged later, said he had done all he could for Arthur. All they could do now was care for him, and wait.

So that's what Hosea did, with the help of everyone else. Not that it seemed to do much good. Every rasp from Arthur's lungs seemed to shatter Hosea's heart again and again, as well as the rest of their family as a steady rotation of visitors entered his tent over the next several days. But they kept holding his hand, though he didn't seem to notice. Kept placing cool, damp towels over his forehead to keep his fever from getting worse, since it never seemed to get better.

Except for Dutch.

Dutch stuck to the edge of Wapiti, never too far that he didn't hear any news, but clearly uncomfortable being with the gang. He sat thinking, first caught in anger, then sorrow, and then regret. It took a crying Miss Grimshaw yelling at him to get him to check on Arthur himself.

He entered the tent, and his heart leapt at the sight of Arthur sitting up. Until he realized Hosea was holding him up, leaning uncomfortably against a pole, Arthur's pale head tucked under his chin.

"He's having trouble breathing," was the only explanation Hosea could give.

"Hosea," Dutch started, crouching down next to him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know about Micah."

Hosea couldn't say anything, just tightened his hold on Arthur's trembling form.

"Please, I can fix this. There has to be something-"

"We're going to lose him, Dutch." Saying it out loud caused fresh tears to fall from Hosea's eyes, and they didn't stop. "There's nothing we can do."

"No. No, you don't mean it."

"All he wanted was to save this family and he did and now I can't save him."

Hosea pulled the blankets up higher around Arthur. Dutch tried to think of assurances to say, but he came up empty-handed. But there was something he was dying to know.

"Arthur changed so much since Blackwater. I didn't see it at first, but he did. I just don't understand how he knew about Micah."

"All of us knew Micah was dangerous, except for you, Dutch."

"He never trusted me after Blackwater. I had a plan, and he always doubted it!"

"Enough about your plan, Dutch! It never would have worked! I… Arthur…" Hosea's eyes drifted to Arthur's satchel. He reached over with one hand and clumsily pulled out the journal. He held on for a second, wondering if he should allow another person to violate Arthur's privacy, but sadly, he knew in a few more hours it might not matter. "Here. Read it. Don't ask questions. Just read it from the beginning and don't say anything until you are done."

So, Dutch read Arthur's journal, cover to cover. Then flipped back to the beginning, and started again. Switched back and forth between different events and different times. A few times he opened his mouth to ask a question, but a glare from Hosea stopped it.

When he finally closed the journal, Dutch was confused and flustered.

"It wouldn't have ended like that. I never would have-"

"You did. You would have, Arthur saw it! I wasn't sure at first either, but you changed, Dutch!"

"He said I left John to die!"

"And look what happened with the O'Driscolls. It was all happening again and that's why Arthur left!"

"How long have you known? How long, Hosea?"

"Since he shot those Pinkertons," Hosea admitted. "Dutch, if you had seen him, he was so scared of losing everyone again. Of losing me, and you. I know it's hard to believe from just reading it, but it's all true."

For once, Dutch didn't have anything to say. He just sat in silence, fingers brushing over the front of Arthur's journal, and thought. And then…

"I'm sorry."

He stared at his son, unable to do nothing but knowing how to help. But a grimace of pain from Hosea when he awkwardly shifted didn't go unnoticed.

"You need rest. Here, let me take him," Dutch said.

"I want to stay."

"You'll ruin your back if you stay like that. Let me help. Please."

Hosea relented, carefully shifting Arthur so that Dutch could take Hosea's place. He stretched, stiffly walked around for a few minutes, then settled in the spare bedroll. He kept his eyes open long enough to see the tears falling from Dutch's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm so sorry," Dutch whispered. "Just keep holding on."

* * *

When Arthur finally pulled his eyes open, he had no idea how much time had passed. But Hosea's hand was curled around his own from the sleeping man's bedroll on his left, Dutch was lightly snoring on his right, and Susan was carefully sewing up a hole in a pair of pants at the foot of his cot. Despite how tired he felt, he managed a small smile, and focused his energy on squeezing Hosea's hand back.

Of course, the peaceful scene didn't last. As soon as Susan glanced up on Arthur and saw him awake, she leapt up and shouted, "You stupid boy! If you scare me like that again, you will wish you were dead!" Dutch and Hosea woke up in a panic, which turned to relief with Arthur's exhausted reply of, "Yes, Miss Grimshaw."

Despite the overwhelming number of apologies, questions asked too quickly for him to even think of an answer, and the confusing chatter when the entire gang tried to push into the tent, Arthur kept smiling.

* * *

"We should probably discuss where we are heading," Hosea said one morning about two weeks into Arthur's recovery. That had been going rather well, all things considered, though Arthur still slept a good portion of the day and couldn't wander far from their camp. But Lenny had made his way up north to join them and was keeping Arthur company. And the rest of the gang was helping keep Wapiti safe from Colonel Favours, as subtly as they could. They moved the horses closer to the tribe and kept them under guard. When that only angered Favours to the point of withholding vaccines, Karen and Sean went to rob the wagon. Karen put on such an excellent show of needing the medicine for her sick mother and twelve younger siblings, as she put it, that the army sergeants practically wished her well as they handed over the vaccines (though they were still at gunpoint). But to top it all off, Josiah Trelawny joined them and planned an impressive con with Hosea involving a rather well forged letter of promotion that required Colonel Favours' immediate return to Washington. Trelawny had some friends who were going to rob Favours at some point on his journey east to cover up the true intent of the ruse.

Of course, their tricks would only help so much. Arthur and Rains Fall knew they had only bought a little time before a threat appeared that they couldn't scare off. Still, the chief had been grateful for the lack of bloodshed.

"Besides looking for land out west, not a damn clue," Arthur replied. "But we need to move fast if we are going to go over the mountains." Summer was quickly turning to fall, and the risk of an early snowfall was building in Arthur's mind.

"Well, it's just that I recently saw an ad for land, but its too close to Blackwater. I don't want to be near Pinkertons for a while. Then there was a plot of land north of Strawberry, up in Big Valley. I always though that it was a beautiful bit of country."

"Where is it?"

"Right here by the creek. Good access to water, open spaces for horses or cattle or whatever we decide to raise."

"I don't know, Hosea. I hate Strawberry, though a quiet town might be good for us. But if we went here, we would have to clear out Hanging Dog Ranch first."

"Why?"

"It's owned by the O'Driscolls."

"WHAT? You've known where an O'Driscoll hideout was this entire time and you didn't tell me!" Dutch looked up from his reading and shouted.

"Think there are still some O'Driscolls there?" Sadie asked. She and Kieran were also part of the conversation, since Sadie had actual homestead experience and Kieran was rather intent on raising horses with Arthur.

"We could just send Sadie to take care of it," Hosea half-joked, but the determined look in Sadie's eyes had Arthur saying, "Just be sure to take someone with you."

"But what do you think of the land?" Hosea pressed.

"It's a good bit of land, but it's still too close to the Pinkertons. I want to get back out to the Pacific."

"We need to leave soon, then. Think you might be alright to ride next week?"

"I hope so."

"Well, I say we follow this trail to here," Hosea said, pointing to a small outpost and train station. "Then, we can catch a train west. As far as we can go. What do you think, Dutch?"

"It's a good plan," Dutch said from the corner, a sad smile on his face. Many long discussions and apologies occurred after Arthur woke up, but there was still a lingering awkwardness between them.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not coming with you."

"What? Why not?" Hosea shouted, but Arthur just waited. Dutch hesitated, but then finally opened his mouth.

"I think it is time I figure out where I fit in this world. And I need to do that alone, for now. Maybe it is Tahiti, or maybe it is right here. But living on a ranch is not my path, for now. And before you say anything, Hosea," Dutch said just as the other man started to speak, "you don't need a wanted man with a bounty like mine hiding in your home. It's better this way."

"I understand, Dutch," Arthur said.

"I can't believe it," Hosea said. "After all these years…"

"You deserve a home, Hosea. All of you. I trust Arthur to get you there." Dutch reached over to squeeze Arthur's hand, and Arthur returned it.

"Just, stay in contact alright? We are going to write to Tilly to let her know where we are going and where we settle. You write to us, you hear? And if you are in trouble or need a place to go, you better come find us." Dutch chuckled at what could be his last lecture from Hosea.

"Of course," he laughed.

As their family began to prepare to leave for the west, they all said their goodbyes to Dutch. Susan threatened to track him down if he didn't keep in contact. And even after everything that happened, Arthur truly hoped they would see him again.

* * *

They settled in California, after weeks of travel and searching for the perfect plot of land. A creek ran through to the small pond in the center of the large field, and a herd of deer grazed amongst the wildflowers, and Arthur knew he was home.

And so, they set to work. Arthur was able to put down a good portion of the money immediately, and with some signed paperwork from the nearby bank, he owned the land. The town itself was small and quiet, just what a bunch of ex-outlaws would want. They were able to buy lumber for a few houses and a barn, some cows, and of course the horses.

The argument over which breed of horse to raise was a battle that lasted days. Kieran argued for work horses like Dutch Warmbloods, Arthur and John both wanted to raise Hungarian Half-Breds like Dakota and Old Boy, Hosea and Sadie believed the Turkoman would get them the most money. The eventual compromise was the Missouri Fox Trotter, whose quiet temperament combined with high speeds seemed to be the best compared to the other three.

Tilly responded to the letter they sent, with an announcement as well. She was getting married! And she wasn't the only one.

The first couple was Kieran and Mary-Beth, and it didn't come as a surprise to anyone. She was a writer now, Mary-Beth, though she chose to publish under a pen name. And Kieran was an expert with the horses.

The next, which did surprise them all, was Lenny, who found a girl in town. Arthur still had vague memories of the party that followed, and while he didn't get as drunk as his last outing with Lenny, it still made for a terrible hangover the next morning. It didn't help that a week later, the party repeated itself when John asked Abigail to marry him properly. Jack had been ecstatic, running around with Cain barking at his heels.

And the last turned out to be Arthur himself! After months of dancing around each other, Karen, Abigail, and Mary-Beth took it upon themselves to force Sadie and Arthur together. It started on the journey to California, with a still healing Arthur and a happier Sadie spending more time together. But he didn't want to rush her, and she was unsure of how to move forward with him, so it took a little outside intervention and a well planned hunting trip to get either of them to admit it.

And so, on a warm morning with a gentle breeze, Arthur stood on the porch of their new home, steaming mug of coffee in his hands. Javier and Charles were out repairing a broken bit of fence. He was glad that his friendship with Javier remained good, despite what happened with Dutch and Micah. Kieran was brushing horses, Mary-Beth was probably inside at her new writing desk. Karen and Sean were off arguing, as they were prone to do in their sometimes rocky relationship. Lenny and his wife Alice were in town, Sadie was exercising the horses, and John was teaching Jack some farm chores with Abigail watching nearby. He looked out over their ranch, and sighed.

"You OK, Arthur?" Hosea asked from where he had been sitting with Susan.

"I'm fine, Hosea. Just enjoying the view."

Things were changing, always. But they had their piece of the world, and finally, a real home.


End file.
